


Unintended Consequences

by PrismPunkie



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amica Endurae, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Cheating, Conjunx Endura, Developing Relationship, Frottage, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Horror Elements, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Past Driftrod, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-War, Self-Servicing, Spark Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Suspense, Transformers Spark Bonds, autobot/decepticon politics, past megop, past springerrod, polyamory is the goal but there is a line that gets crossed, robot gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 94,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23011426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrismPunkie/pseuds/PrismPunkie
Summary: The war is over, the Quintessons have been beaten back and Cybertron has been made whole again. But peace between Autobots and Decepticons hinges on the union between the leaders of the two factions. Except recently there was a change in leadership as Optimus Prime died just before the defeat of the Quintessons. Now the new Prime is to be married to a mech he only just recently fought on the same side with against their common enemy. But nearly four million years on the opposing sides is a hard gap to overcome...And while getting accustomed to the idea of being bonded to Megatron for the rest of his functioning, Rodimus finds a strange friend in Thunderclash. He must try to sort out his feelings for both of these two bots while also juggling responsibilities as Prime and dealing with an ominous guilt that weighs heavily on his spark...Disclaimer: No one dies in the fic itself, but Optimus' death will be a main part of the story and thus I felt the need to tag with Major Character Death, I promise that none of the main characters will die in this fic.
Relationships: Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime/Thunderclash, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Rodimus/Thunderclash, background Dratchet
Comments: 241
Kudos: 197





	1. Preparing for the End

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if it was a stroke of brilliance or hubris but I realized there isn't really any fics with Rodimus/Megatron/Thunderclash and I think that is a hole I need to fill. Strap in because this will be LONG. I hope you are ready for some ridiculousness, sweetness, and, of course, pain.

Rodimus stood under a spray of solvent.

It had long lost its warmth and was now just cold liquid permeating his frame. Still he stood there. Thinking about all the events that had led up to him being put in this position. As if trying to find an exact moment where he had altered his life so dramatically. Like he could change it if he thought about it long enough. The only problem was that there wasn’t just one instance he would change. His whole functioning felt like a series of unfortunate events. One after another. He couldn’t choose just one bad moment from his life to undo without doing disservice to the others.

If he could rank them, however, he knew which ones would be the worst. Funnily enough, they were both the beginning and the end of the war. Two painful bookends for the most painful four million years of his existence. The first being the annihilation of Nyon, his home, and the second being…

A knock at the door roused Rodimus from his thoughts.

“Rodimus? Are you _still_ in there?” Came the muffled voice of Drift, his best friend, “You’re going to be late.”

“We’ve put this off for so long, they can stand to wait a few more minutes.” Rodimus turned the solvent off and stepped out of the wash racks though, grabbing a towel to dry his plating as he entered the room where Drift was waiting. The white mech had one hand on his hip and the other held a bottle of polish, which he shook enticingly.

Normally, Rodimus would have leapt at the idea of his amica polishing him, Drift knew exactly how to make his frame shine. But given the mood of the day, he didn’t much feel like putting on a show. As if reading his processor, Drift set the bottle down and came over to embrace him

“I know it isn’t fair, Roddy,” Drift said, rubbing his back, “It shouldn’t have to be you. The stupid bureaucrats just didn’t want to negotiate a new treaty because they’re afraid.”

“And are they wrong to be?” Rodimus looked up at his friend. The ex-decepticon winced.

“If we went back to negotiations and the decepticons of the autobots didn’t agree on the terms anymore—which they don’t, then we could see the start of the war all over again.” Rodimus said, remembering the conversation he had months ago.

He had been sat outside of the makeshift capital building in New Iacon. The time to enact the treaty had been put on hold due to changes in certain circumstances. Mainly, the death of Optimus Prime.

That didn’t stop certain mechs, from both sides, to suddenly think that their side was entitled to more than the other. Arguments broke out for hours, negotiating the freedom of war criminals and reparations to be paid. All of them assuming that the treaty was up because of Optimus’ death. After all, it had been Optimus Prime’s idea to have a marriage between the two faction’s leaders included in the treaty. Not just the leader though, no, it clearly stipulated that the _Prime_ would marry the leader of the Decepticons. A formal unity between the factions— between Cybertronians torn by war, to unite them under the leadership of the Prime once more. It was supposed to be symbolic.

Which was fine when it was Optimus, no one questioned it because the two had been friends before the war. And anyone could see that he and Megatron clearly respected one another. Years of being at war, and the two of them had never left the other’s helm. They were always thinking 10 steps ahead of the other all the time. They were equals on the battlefield, physically and tactically. Some would have said a better match could not have been made by Primus himself. So 10 years ago when the treaty was made, and they were facing the extinction of their race at the hands of the Quintessons, both sides couldn’t have said yes fast enough. Now though, in peace time, neither side could stop bickering long enough about the old terms to discuss new ones properly.

So Rodimus sat outside as the council broke for recess, a much needed break from the incessant arguing. He flicked at rubble that still littered the streets of their reclaimed home. They hadn’t had much time to clean up just yet, not while their society was still in just as bad of shape. Four million years was a hard gap to breach. Even after fighting along side one another for awhile now, their differences had only been made more evident.

“Is this seat taken?”

Rodimus looked up at the familiar voice of Megatron. The silver mech pointing at a broken piece of the street next to him. He couldn’t help but smile a little at what he assumed was an attempt at being humorous.

“Not at all, step into my office.” Rodimus said with a flourish of his arm at the tattered floor.

The big mech chuckled as he took his seat next to him. Silence befell them thereafter, and they both sat staring off into the streets for an indeterminate amount of time. Neither seeming to want to break the peace between them.

“Sorry.” Rodimus spoke first, unable to take it any longer.

“What are you apologizing for?” Megatron asked.

A sharp pain in Rodimus’ chest reminded him of something he had long forgotten. Guilt pressed down on him and he only shook his head in an answer.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Megatron continued, “I’m the whole reason we’re in this mess.”

“I think Optimus would have taken some of that blame.”

A humorless laugh left Megatron, “He would have wouldn’t he? Even if it wasn’t _his_ to take.” Megatron’s voice shook a little and Rodimus regretted bringing up the old Prime.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Megatron said after another short pause. 

Rodimus flicked another rock with his digits, “You say that like you know something I don’t.”

“I’ve been playing this game a lot longer than you. I already know that Prowl has talked to you and I’m betting I know what it was about.”

Rodimus gritted his dentae.

“Which is why I came to tell you that you don’t have to do this.” Megatron’s voice softened.

“Sure, let me just _let_ our people fall back into war for another million years or two.” Rodimus hissed throwing a pointed glare at Megatron.

“If this is about Nyon—”

“ _Don’t_ bring them into this!” Rodimus snapped, his plating flaring indignantly as he turned his body to face the silver mech, “It’s been made _abundantly_ clear by more than just Prowl that this is about more than just me and it’s my decision to make.”

“And I’m telling you it doesn’t have to be,” Megatron came back, his voice rising, “You don’t have to _be_ Optimus, you don’t have to let them _control_ you like he did!”

“What choice do I have? Can you guarantee that the decepticons are going to even listen to you anymore? Because the autobots sure as _Pit_ don’t listen to me. Do you think they’ll just lie back while we decide the fate of Cybertron all over again?” Rodimus said, scowling.

Megatron sat back, his frame heaving a large puff of air through his vents.

“I couldn’t have guaranteed that 10 years ago let alone now. The threat of the Quintessons was practically the only thing holding our patchwork ceasefire together at the time.” Megatron admitted.

“So then you see where I’m coming from. _We_ ,” Rodimus emphasized the word, “Don’t have much of a choice unless we want the fighting to break out again.” Rodimus sniffed, turning away and drawing his knees to his chest in a pout, “Like you said, you’re included in this mess.”

“But _you_ don’t have to be.” Rodimus felt a large hand place itself lightly on his back, “Don’t put this on yourself, don’t make this about the lives you could have saved—Don’t make this about Nyon.”

Rodimus bristled, “I told you to leave them out of this.”

“You first.”

Rodimus set his jaw, frustration burning his lines, “I’m not going to be the start of another war, Megatron. I-I can’t.” 

He screwed his optics shut as he felt the first bits of lubrication on the edges of them. He quickly put his hand up to cover his face, blinking rapidly to dry his tears.

“Prowl never should have let you feel like you would…” Megatron said, his tone gentle but hiding a bitterness that Rodimus knew all too well.

“It’s too late now.” Rodimus said when his voice was more reliable, “Besides, it’s not the end of the world. I think we’ve both seen more than our fair share of that.” He looked over his shoulder at the big mech, who’s hand was still on his back.

“A little formal marriage won’t kill us after what we’ve been through.”

Megatron chewed his derma for a moment before his optics fixated on Rodimus.

“If you’re sure that this is what you want…?” 

“I’m sure.” Rodimus said, every ounce of his will put behind those words.

That had been over a year ago. The two of them had gone before the council with the decision to go through with the treaty as it was. The main points of which were enacted first so as to lay down a working foundation of government before worrying about their union. It thankfully gave both Megatron and Rodimus enough time to at least get used to the idea of one another before they would be bonded for life.

They lived together, fueled together, they even worked in the same boring senate building together. At first it was awkward but soon it just became routine. They hardly spoke the first few weeks but about two months in they were already bickering like they had lived together for years. Megatron complaining about Rodimus taking all of the hot solvent when he clearly didn’t need to, his frame was already hot enough without it. Which inspired plenty of jokes from Rodimus, leave no doubt about that. And Rodimus complaining about how their living space was designed more for Megatron in mind, which meant that everything made him feel very _small_. He could barely reach the bottom-most shelves of their fuel cabinets and complained bitterly every time he had to ask Megatron for help. Mostly because the silver mech laughed at him every single time.

Before either of them knew it, time had flown by and they were being asked for details about the ceremony. Both of them thought it would have been something done privately. But that wasn’t what the council wanted. Oh no, not by a long shot. They wanted to practically traipse them down the aisle, make a huge affair out of it with broadcasts and everything. Megatron had put is pede down on that real fast.

In the end they had reached a middle ground. One camera bot who was allowed to shoot the beginning and end of the ceremony before they went into the chapel and when they came out. Absolutely no cameras during the ceremony itself. And instead of thousands watching them, only those invited and of course the ceremony administer were allowed inside. Whoever showed up outside could remain there but if they weren’t an invited guest then they would not be admitted inside. The guest list started small at first. Until the council invited themselves, and subsequently about 400 other guests with them. They went back and forth for weeks about the guest list alone before the preparations had all been made. By then there were about 150 guests and Rodimus and Megatron had to concede that was probably the best it was going to get. 

Now here he stood, in his room in his too big apartment that he shared with his to-be conjunx, holding onto his amica like he was going to disappear if he let go. He wasn’t feeling cold feet per-se, but he wasn’t exactly excited about his situation either. Gently, he pushed away from Drift to pick up the bottle of polish where it had been left on his night stand. He opened it and palmed some into a cloth and held it out to his friend.

“Please?” He said, trying to pull as much cheer to the surface as he could to lighten the mood.

Drift took it with a small smile and began to polish the planes on his back in soft waxing motions. Rodimus relaxed into the touch and let himself forget his fears for a moment.

He wasn’t afraid of Megatron himself. No, his dread stemmed from the fact that he knew what came after the ceremony. When all the puffery and the words had been said, it was still only just that until they got home. After that they would need to do something more… intimate.

Creating the conjunx endura bond itself.

When he had been reminded of what was expected of them, Rodimus had first been almost sick to himself with nerves. He had never bared his spark to another before. He had been so scared that he had immediately gone to his friend. Drift, wonderful, wise and patient Drift, had asked him to become his amica endura. That way he wouldn’t be so afraid to bare his spark. It had worked to some degree, he no longer feared the feeling anymore but he also knew at the back of his processor that an amica bond wasn’t really the same as a conjunx. Amica’s bared their sparks in a show of trust and the bond is formed from that trust. But a conjunx comes from a bond shared in intimacy. 

And initiating a bond with his friend he had known since before the war had ended was very different to what he would face with Megatron. Rodimus would not only be baring his spark for the first time with the bigger mech, but also his entire frame when they interfaced.

It wasn’t really an optional thing either. Because of the formality of the treaty and the marriage, a medic would be inspecting their sparks to make sure a bond had been formed. ‘No pressure’ had been Ratchet’s words to him on the subject. And if someone thought maybe the first medic was lying, another medic would also inspect their sparks. Although Rodimus doubted any medic in their right mind would call Ratchet a liar, he didn’t want to tempt fate by asking him to lie for them. Ratchet would likely have turned him down anyway if he suggested it.

“Alright, you’re officially gorgeous.” Drift said, taking a step back to admire his handiwork.

“I’ve _always_ been gorgeous.” Rodimus teased as he looked at himself in the mirror in his room, “But hey, if you don’t look too closely, it looks like I actually want to seduce Megatron.” Rodimus said with a roll of his optics.

“Don’t say things like that,” Drift snorted, “You’re becoming conjunx, not his consort.”

“Tell the paparazzi bots that.” Rodimus growled. “You know they actually compared me to Starscream? I wanted to throw that bot off a cliff.”

“From what I understand, Starscream _did_.” Drift laughed, “Well, almost. He made him print the retraction.”

“You know, sometimes it’s weird having Starscream at my back without him intending to blast it.” Rodimus pondered aloud.

“It’s kind of a rarity, even as a decepticon he was not one you turned your back on unless you wanted him to dig his claws into it.”

“No wonder they made him a senator, he’s a first rate politician.” Rodimus rolled his optics.

“Alright, enough talk, time to get you out the door!” Drift said taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the door of his room and out into the living area. Across the way was Megatron’s room, currently empty as the silver mech had left ahead of time, but the sight of the room made Rodimus’s tanks churn a little. After today his room would be Megatron’s room wouldn’t it? Would they share a berth? They already shared so much…

“Hey.” 

Rodimus pulled his optics to Drift’s whose gaze intensified, “You’ve got me with you okay? I’m with you every step.”

He swallowed against his dry intake and smiled, “Thank you Drift.”


	2. When All Said and Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding goes off without a hitch... Mostly

Megatron wasn’t an anxious mech by nature and he didn’t get unnerved easily. But having Starscream in his room on the day of his wedding was cause for at least a little concern.

Feeling agitated and wound up with no way to relieve his stress, Megatron had gone upstairs to hide from prying eyes. He opened the door on the seeker without knowing he would be there, hiding in the eves of the chapel where the ceremony would take place. Megatron’s already frowning face pulled into a scowl at the sight of him.

“Another frame change, really?” He said, looking at the mech who had donned full red and black coloring with golden orange and yellow accents. He was draped lavishly in the only chair in the room, a devilish smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“What, you don’t like it.” Starscream drawled, “I thought maybe this was in better taste, I figured the red and blue would bring up bad feelings.”

Megatron grimaced, “How thoughtful of you.” He crossed his arms over his chest as the door shut behind him, “Now is that all you wanted or is there some other reason you’re bothering me.”

“I just wanted to congratulate you. It’s not every day you see an old mech like yourself getting married to a hot young thing like the new Prime.” Starscream’s voice dripped with sarcasm andamusement.

Megatron scoffed, “He’s not as young as he lets on.”

“But he’s younger than your usual type.” Starscream said, all too knowing, before crossing his legs and bouncing a heeled pede, “Isn’t he?”

“What do you want me to say.” Megatron crossed the room, looking out the window into the streets where the guests were arriving, a myriad of bots and cons alike. A mixture of Rodimus’ friends and what used to be his decepticon high command made for a strange sight down below. Megatron exhaled through his nose.

“He wasn’t my first choice, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I know that, the question is, does _anyone else_ know that.” Starscream asked with a hiss. He turned to look at the seeker, whose smirk had turned into a scowl.

“Still sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Starscream.” His optics narrowed to slits, “What angle are you working?”

“Angle? Why does there have to be an angle? Can’t a senator show concern for the new Prime and his ‘not-so-chosen’ mate?” Starscream shrugged. “And, you know as much as I do that if anyone were to question the… _validity_ of this union, there might be a call for your head.”

“Is that a threat?” Megatron asked angrily, “You’re sniffing around the wrong energon if you think Rodimus would ever back your campaign for ruler of Cybertron by being blackmailed.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions so hastily.” Starscream stood then, his shorter frame still only coming up to his chest, but he stared into Megatron’s optics unflinching. 

The seeker’s scowl dropped a little but only just before it was replaced with another smirk, “Although, given the right incentive he might… you both might. Blackmail isn’t that incentive though and that’s not why I’m here. Believe it or not, I’m looking out for you fools. If it weren’t for me you’d already have suffered twice the amount of drama from the damn Photons.”

Megatron had to give a little recognition to that, Starscream had a way with slimy individuals and getting them to do his bidding. The last reporter to cross the jet was found hanging from an abandoned skyscraper by his toe-pedes.

“Thanks, then. I guess.” 

“Thank Soundwave too while you’re at it, he asked Reflektor to track down the culprit for me. No questions asked, might I add. I think he still thinks he’s your third in command and has to take care of you.” Starscream sounded surprisingly bitter as he brushed past Megatron to the window.

Megatron’s harsh gaze softened, “So do you, it looks like.”

Starscream snorted, “Don’t go getting sentimental on me, those blasted reporters damaged _my reputation_ as well.” There was a pause as Starscream watched out the window, his dark features betraying the irony of his statement. For someone not asking for sentimentality, Megatron could see the edge of a smile pulling his lip plates.

“Well look who finally decided to show up.” Starscream indicated to the steps below.

Megatron followed his gaze to see Rodimus and Drift coming up the steps. Despite the call for only one camera bot, several reporters were hanging around and jumped at the chance to get shots of the two speedsters. Ever since they had become amica the press couldn’t get enough of the two of them. Likely tomorrow’s headline would be spun about Rodimus’ side mech with a clear shot of the two holding hands. Of course, if Rodimus wanted to be with someone else no one was going to stop him, not even Megatron. He knew better than to expect the young Prime to be faithful to him. He was stealing away his bachelor status in writing only. But he also knew that Drift wasn’t the mech to steal him away. They were amica, not lovers. 

And he also hoped that if it came down to it, Rodimus would be more discreet with his actual lover…

“He looks happy.” Starscream said wistfully. 

“He’s probably hamming it up for the cameras.” 

“A bot after my own spark.”

Megatron scrunched his nose at the idea of Starscream and Rodimus being anything alike. The only thing they shared, maybe, was a fondness for the color red. Beyond that, they were complete opposites in Megatron’s optics. Starscream was conniving and and calculating. Rodimus was genuine and reckless. Starscream was cold but Rodimus was fire, and where the seeker cowered, Rodimus would have run in head first without a second thought. He’d seen him do it a few times when they had first met, back when he was still Hot Rod, and Megatron had admired him for it. He thought he would have made a good decepticon.

In some ways, he was glad he had been wrong.

“I suppose it’s time to take my seat, try not to trip on your way to the altar.” Starscream said lazily as he turned to leave.

“Starscream.” Megatron said, stopping the jet with a gentle hand on his arm. It wasn’t like Starscream to mince words or be where he didn’t want to be. He always had something strategic going on in that processor of his. Knowing this, Megatron could only see one reason for the jet, a decepticon who was flourishing under the treaty that this marriage had brought about, to be here. He didn’t want Megatron running out on them. Despite the bitter words exchanged between them, the seeker had done a good job of distracting him from what was going to happen with nothing more than his obnoxiousness.

“Thank you.”

The seeker quirked a brow at him, “Get over yourself you big mech, you’re getting married.”

~

The ceremony was long despite being short.

Much of the pomp and circumstance was cut, thanks to Megatron who said that most of the decepticons wouldn’t sit through such drivel. At least not civilly. That still left plenty of symbolic tomfoolery for the autobots and the bureaucrats to embellish though, which dragged on and on and on. Rodimus thought perhaps he would offline from old age before they would finally be through it all. He wondered what it would have been like if they hadn’t cut out so much already. He had heard old stories about weddings that would literally take days but he didn’t really believe that those had been real. Now he was kind of starting to.

In total the ceremony was just over an hour. Three quarters of which were spent staying still and trying not to fidget. Rodimus managed to keep his composure at the altar, but it was difficult trying not to laugh at times when this situation was so utterly ridiculous and awkward. The silence in the room felt forced, like perhaps a fight might break out at any moment, all the bots in the room only needed a reason. So neither Rodimus nor Megatron gave it to them. They stood, hand in hand, bodies as relaxed as possible and listening to the officiant respectfully. Although his optics barely moved from Megatron’s chest for most of it, he occasionally glanced up at the silver mech to find him gazing solemnly back at him. It was almost unnerving how calm he was. He couldn’t tell if the bigger mech was just calm or resigned. Even more unnerving was the difference between those two feelings was surprisingly important to Rodimus.

When it was all said and done there was only a single disturbance, as a camera bot had snuck inside and had to be chased off the premises. Other than that, the ceremony went off without a hitch.

The reception however…

Even more bots were invited to the reception than the ceremony, all friends and comrades and old enemies alike. It had always been planned to be more people than the ceremony itself as a sort of celebration that the war was over and the treaty was finalized. The problem was the two factions rarely _chose_ to mingle together if they didn’t have to. Because some of them still held grudges that ran deep.

It was a good thing that there had been strictly no reporters or camera bots allowed at the reception, because the fistfight between Thundercracker and Ironhide definitely would have made the headline. Not to mention Starscream had a large bucket of coolant thrown over him by the lambo twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Luckily, Wheeljack was able to calm his temper before he clawed their optics out.

Among other shenanigans that happened, Prowl somehow ended up with a date with Devastator. Not the necessarily constructicons themselves, but _Devastator_. As they had transformed at some point and were proving to be voracious flirts the entire time. Rumble and Frenzy, who were _not_ invited, had snuck in to see Soundwave and began throwing the jello’d energon at guests from the buffet, inciting a food war with Bumblebee and Jazz. Rodimus did see that Drift managed to pluck up the courage to ask Ratchet for a dance but he got cornered by senator Metalhawk before he could see what happened.

At some point in the night Rodimus remembered what going home meant for him and he quickly started sneaking extra drinks. To ‘cool his nerves’ is what he told Drift when his amica caught him slurring. But after that he couldn’t get any engex within reach of him without Drift prying it out of his hands. Was it too much to ask to not remember this night in the morning?

Apparently it was because Rodimus found himself sobering up as he was dropped off with Megatron for the night. He was lucid but he still felt a little uninhibited at least. He went from leaning on his amica to his new conjunx without much thought. It was nice to not have to think.

Rodimus entered the living space with Megatron on his heels. He didn’t need to turn around to know he was there. He could feel his large presence as the speedster turned to walk into Megatron’s room, fully intending on getting this over with as quickly as possible. He was caught by the shoulder and he jerked against the hold.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Megatron asked, sounding annoyed.

“Pfft, don’t play coy with me now Megs. We have the last bit of the job to do still.” Rodimus said trying to squirm out of the hold he was in but to no avail.

“Yes, but not now. Not tonight.” Megatron said firmly.

“S’wa? Why not?” Rodimus squirmed some more against the large black hand on his arm.

“You’re intoxicated for one.” Megatron said with a shake of his bucket head.

“You’re intoxicated.” Rodimus repeated, childishly.

“And you are obviously not comfortable enough to interface with me yet for another.” Megatron took his other arm with his other giant hand to stop Rodimus’ squirming completely.

“Psh, it’s just fragging, I know how to do that.” Rodimus said, trying to be vulgar on purpose. For what reason, his processor didn’t know.

“That may be, but this is different.”

Rodimus looked into his big red optics, confused. Was he really going to have to _try_ and get this mech into berth? He hoped Megatron would be equally eager to get it over with as he was. But as he looked at the silver mech, there was something very serious about his demeanor all of a sudden.

“Wha’ abou’ the spark bond check up?” Rodimus asked, still dubious.

“We can reschedule it.” He replied firmly.

“Wha’ if they don’t let us, Megatron? Wha’ if they get angry—” The bigger mech shushed him with a surprisingly gentle finger to his lips plates.

“You need to stop being afraid of those mechs on the council. They can’t force you to do anything you don’t want. Now please, go sleep off the engex.” Megatron turned him around, towards his own room and gave him a little push. 

Rodimus was stunned and he stood there for a moment, swaying and looking over his shoulder at Megatron, before wobbling his way to his room. His still drink addled processor was having trouble deciding what just happened. But as he sluggishly relaxed into his berth, it finally came to a conclusion. In an unexpected twist, he just got _rejected_ by Megatron.

Boy he did not see that one coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going for at least a weekly post for this fic, maybe twice a week if I feel like it. Currently, I feel like it. So look for another post on Friday ;)


	3. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus goes to Drift for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to add, if anyone is worried about the Major Character Death tag, I added it because of Optimus. There isn't going to be any characters that die in this fic.

_Hot Rod crawled over blackened debris. He moved too slowly but couldn’t get himself to move faster. A ringing in his audials robbed him of his hearing and disoriented him. If gravity wasn’t pressing down on him he wouldn’t have known what way was up or down. So he crawled, looking for something… someone…_

* * *

Rodimus awoke the next morning with a processor ache that felt like the size of his fist. His tanks rolled in protest at even the slightest movement and his vision swam when he moved to sit up. He felt suddenly grateful that Megatron had refused him the night before because he was pretty positive he was going to purge. He dragged himself over to the wash racks and did just that only moments after that thought. This was punishment for downing whatever he could get his hands on and unintentionally mixing engex types. 

Groaning loudly, he turned on the solvent, not caring to get out of the way as the cold spray hit his back. It took a few minutes to warm up but after it did, Rodimus felt his plating relax finally. He flexed the tension from his neck and arms before leaning against the wash rack walls. He stood there for a time, letting the steam and heat work it’s way to his core.

Rodimus lost track of time, as he usually did when showering, and only got around to actually washing himself when he felt the warmth beginning to weaken. When he got out the solvent was lukewarm at best and he silently hoped Megatron hadn’t washed yet. Just for the sake of sweet revenge.

Still not feeling well, Rodimus trudged into the living area to get a cube and hopefully calm his raging tanks. Megatron was sitting on the sofa, reading a data pad when he entered. Their optics met, a clear twinkle of amusement in Megatron’s.

“Good morning, rest well?” Megatron said, an obvious hint of teasing in his voice.

Rodimus soured his expression and turned away from the big mech in favor of hunting down his energon. He heard the silver mech laugh and he grumbled to himself loudly. Not to be completely pushed around by his embarrassment, Rodimus took his cube and boldly sat down right next to Megatron to drink it. Comfortable silence consumed them while he drank, the sense of routine settling over them. This was almost any typical morning for them these days, sans the hangover Rodimus was nursing.

He supposed he should be grateful that the two of them had a chance to get used to each other before the ceremony. But he wished that the tension between them had lessened more. Despite all of their casualness, there was still this weird feeling. Maybe it was just Rodimus imagining it but it felt like if the two of them looked at each other for too long that the room might combust. He wasn’t sure why that was. He felt that part of it might have been attraction, there was no denying that the silver mech was handsome. But the other parts of it, the ones he _couldn’t_ name, drew away from that attraction. Making the thought of any kind of intimacy much more scary than it should be.

“So.” Rodimus started, not really sure where he was headed.

“So?” Megatron repeated, still reading his data pad.

Feeling frustrated, Rodimus growled, “How can you just sit there and be so calm?”

Megatron finally looked away from his data pad to eye him with a red optic.

“What should I be doing instead? Pacing back and forth? Would that make you happy?”

“This isn’t about making _me_ happy.” Rodimus pushed off from the couch to look Megatron directly in the face now, “It’s about keeping to the treaty. You know, like _we said_ we would?”

“Rodimus.” Megatron sighed and put his data pad down on the table in front of him. “They’re not going to drag you down to the medics and _make you_ open your chest plates.”

“It’s still something that has to be done, if I start asking for them to put it off they’re going to get suspicious. Especially Prowl.”

“Well Prowl can shove his suspicions right where he found them.”

“Unlikely, I doubt he could fit it next to the iron rod he has shoved up there.” Rodimus griped.

Megatron chuckled for a moment but then sighed again, “You weren’t ready to bond last night, there was too much pressure.”

“Well the pressure’s off now.” Rodimus folded his arms and leaned in on the big mech, “So are we gonna bond or not?”

Megatron simply scowled at him, “Not if the only reason you want to is to keep your aft out of hot oil with Prowl.”

“Psh, that’s not the only reason I want to.” Rodimus said, rolling his optics.

“Oh, do tell?” Megatron’s red optics narrowed at him, a smile curling the corners of his lip plates.

Rodimus felt himself heat up under that stare, not really sure of his reasons actually. Save for one, but he didn’t need Megatron knowing that he thought he was attractive. That might overinflate his already large ego. Rodimus couldn’t have that, not when the silver mech was already smarmy as _Pit_.

“Oh, look at the time, I told Drift I would meet him, see you later.” Rodimus stood up unceremoniously and sped out of the apartment as quickly as he could manage.

He didn’t actually have anything planned with Drift but a message tagged at *911 emergency* sent to the other speedster’s comm link was met with an immediate invitation to come over. Rodimus stuck to the alleyways on his way there, not wanting to draw the ever watchful optics of the Photons who had given themselves the job of updating all Cybertronians on all things Cybertron. Mainly, gossip surrounding his marriage right now. He prayed that it would calm down after it wasn’t a hot topic. Seeing as it had only been a day, Rodimus wasn’t going to take chances being caught outside and on his way to see his amica while he was supposed to be on his ‘honeymoon’ week.

When he arrived at the white speedster’s place he didn’t even knock before punching in the code and stepping inside.. The place smelled of the usual incense he had come to associate with Drift, earthy tones with a light floral sweetness, and he instantly felt more relaxed. He walked into the small living space where Drift’s meditation mat and his shrine was built. He stared at it for a moment, a small symbol of the Matrix catching his optic. He put a hand out and caught the small charm, which hung from a chain along with other various symbols of worship, between two fingers. Despite it’s small nature, it felt heavy. He felt the weight of it all the way up his arm. The blue gem in the center of the charm burned a hole in his spark, and briefly he could hear _those words_ again…

“Roddy? I didn’t hear you come in.” Drift’s voice pulled him from his reverie and he turned to see the speedster coming at him and quickly pulling him into a hug. He pulled back to look at him.

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you or anything did he?” Drift said, his voice dropping to a serious whisper.

“No, no, nothing like that! Actually we uh, we didn’t do anything last night.” Rodimus scratched the side of his helm awkwardly. Drift’s tense body relaxed visibly.

“Thank Primus, I was so worried when I had to leave you with him, you still seemed so out of it.” At that Drift smacked his shoulder, “Getting drunk like that, honestly. You scared me.”

“Ow!” Rodimus gushed, playing up the pain even though it didn’t hurt but he grimaced sincerely, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. If it helps, it made me sick this morning.”

“Why would that make me feel any better?” Drift shook his helm.

“Because I got what I deserved?” Rodimus chuckled.

Drift pursed his lips, “I suppose you got what was coming to you. I’m just glad that your punishment wasn’t at Megatron’s hands.”

“He wasn’t interested in interfacing with me like that,” Rodimus paused, “Actually, I get the feeling he’s not interested in interfacing with me at all.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Drift quirked a brow, “You’re worried about the treaty?”

“Yeah, he said we can postpone but I’m scared that they won’t let us.” Rodimus grumbled, he grimaced before adding, “And… it bothers me that Megatron won’t even look at me most of the time. I’m just… I’m a mess Drift, I don’t know why I care so much when… when he probably doesn’t.” Rodimus was pulled into another hug.

“That’s why this marriage doesn’t make sense to me. If you two are expected to be together but don’t love each other… It doesn’t feel right.” Drift held his forehelm to Rodimus’. “But if Megatron doesn’t want to be with you intimately you shouldn’t take it to spark, it’s his loss anyway.”

Rodimus hummed, closing his optics, “I know that, but I still need to bond with him. Sooner rather than later.”

“Hm, I’d say don’t worry about it for now. You’ll get there eventually. I’m sure Megatron will at the very least keep to the treaty, just give both of you some time to adjust.” Drift said, gently smoothing his plating.

Rodimus sighed, “I _guess_ …”

“Hey, I know something that’ll cheer you up!”

“Please no meditation,” Rodimus said with a light laugh, “I’ll just fall asleep, you know this.”

Drift gave him one last squeeze as he laughed, “No dummy, I borrowed some games from Bumblebee, want to play them with me?”

Rodimus instantly lit up, “Heck yeah I do, what do you got!” He eagerly followed Drift into his room where the vid screen was set up with an earth game console.

The two of them picked the racing game first, playing it for nearly 4 hours to get through every track. Afterwards they made some snacks and booted up the single campaign in a fighting game, Rodimus and Drift traded off fighting the enemies. Rodimus had moved to laying on the bed behind Drift, dangling his arms over the bed onto his shoulders.

“Rodimus.” Drift said as he fought off a slew of tiny enemies that were hell-bent on knocking him off the platform, “You’re being quiet, and we both know what that means.”

“I’m not a marry-able mech.”

Drift paused the game with a sigh, “Roddy…”

“You know it’s true, I’ve told you about all the mech’s I’ve fragged. The one with the highest count being _you_.”

“That’s hardly a reasonable statistic to use…” 

“That’s only as far as I ever got.” Rodimus continued, “The war was part of it I guess, no time to make a real connection… Besides you and me.” Drift sighs again and Rodimus feels a little guilty about his next words but he can’t stop himself. He has to know.

“If I had asked you… all those years ago, before the end of the war, before the treaty… before _everything_ — would you have been my conjunx?”

Drift set the game controller aside before turning around to face him, optics full of sadness, “That isn’t fair Roddy, you’ve known for a long time how I feel about Ratchet.”

Rodimus felt his tanks lurch with guilt and he hung his helm, “Yeah, I know—I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to ask.” Rodimus finds his helm placed on Drift’s shoulder, arms encircling him and stroking his back gently.

“Just because you haven’t connected with anyone yet doesn’t mean you won’t.”

“How can I? I’m arm-candy for _Megatron_. You think anyone is going to want me now? The only bot I could think of who would is _Starscream_ out os sheer spite and… yeesh.” Rodimus scrunched up his nose and wriggled in mock disgust.

“Roddy, its not like you’re at the end of your functioning or something, you’re just married for the treaty.” Drift said in his audial.

“But will other bots see it that way? Even you don’t like that we married for _business_. Most bots just don’t do that these days and all the bots who used to are all old or died out. Everyone probably thinks because I agreed to the treaty that I secretly had a thing for Megatron.” Rodimus rolled his optics, “I guess that’s for the best, I’m not a mech that someone holds a torch for anyway.”

“Says who?” Drift said almost venomously, “Roddy you’re amazing! You’re beautiful and kind and charismatic! And incredibly brave too!”

Rodimus could see how Drift could think that about him. He could even concede to being beautiful and charismatic, he’d used those attributes many a time to influence both friends and enemies alike. But he wasn’t brave, he was a coward. Drift didn’t know the half of it and he _couldn’t_ know it. Rodimus would rather die then have to face his friend if he knew just how cowardly he was. What a _liar_ and _manipulator_ he was…

“Roddy please don’t cry.”

Rodimus hadn’t realized that tears had begun to fall from his optics. He sniffed and wiped them away, “Sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Drift said quietly, “I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

“This is enough,” Rodimus snuggled into his shoulder some more, “I don’t need anything more than this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on a sad, next chapter will be better.


	4. Meet-Cute

Rodimus used to be an ace at getting out of things.

Avoiding boring work, easy; getting out of boring meetings, he’d just disappear and no one would even say anything. After he became Prime however, things got a lot harder. He gave the excuse of needing a break one too many times to go and spin circles in his alt-mode outside. Now he was confined to his desk with the piles of data pads that never seemed to get any smaller no matter how hard he tried to get through them. And his new situation made it even more difficult when it came to avoid the question he knew would come. 

Fortunately, the week that the ‘bonded’ couple had off after the ceremony they were left unbothered. Rodimus came and went from the apartment and no one stopped him to ask if he had gone through with it. He felt silly for thinking that they would. As the time came for them to go back to work however, his fears became much more valid.

First it was through a simple memo. ‘Come to the med lab when you have time.’ May have seemed subtle to those who didn’t know the bot that was asking. But Rodimus knew why Prowl wanted him there. He needed to make sure the treaty was fully satisfied, no matter how invasive it was to Rodimus. Of course, it hadn’t. So Rodimus deleted the memo in the hopes to stave off the mech. And it worked for a time.

An hour later though, Rodimus received a call instead. Luckily Rodimus had the forethought to screen the call so he could feign ignorance later. Prowl was much less nice in the call, demanding that Rodimus show up to the med lab in 30 minutes or _else_. Rodimus didn’t want to think about what ‘else’ might be so he very quietly snuck out of his office. He thought of maybe tip-toeing to Ultra Magnus’ office, hiding among the larger furniture would be a breeze. But as he rounded a corner he ran smack into another bot.

A pissed of Praxian by the name of Prowl.

“Oh heeeeeeyyyyy, Prowl! How was your date? Did it go well? Did you let Devastator in the back door?”

“I hope you’re heading to your appointment.” Prowl said coolly.

“Appointment?” Rodimus feigned surprise, “I didn’t make any appointments.”

“I made one for you.” Prowl narrowed his optics.

“Well so sorry, I can’t right now, I’m going out to refuel.” Rodimus said, unconvincingly.

“Oh? And why is this more important than your spark check up?” Prowl asked raising a brow.

“Because I—Because…”

Movement caught the corner of Rodimus’s optic and he instinctively pointed at it, “Because I made plans with them—” The bot in question paused and Rodimus looked at ‘them’ now-

And was positively taken aback. Of all bots, why did it have to be _him_.

The big optics of none other than _Thunderclash_ stared at him dumbly. Big _dopey_ red optics on his brass colored faceplate, with his dumb white chest, his tacky chest decal, and his clashing teal and red limbs… The bot was just a lot to take in, visually. Rodimus had only briefly met the very strangely colored bot a few times during the war. And he counted most of them as a few times too many. Whenever he was around all anyone could do was sing his praises and kiss his aft so hard it was a wonder it didn’t have dents in it. Rodimus never found him to be that interesting but somehow, year after year, people became more and more enamored with his heroics. He never let anyone down apparently.

Never let anyone die either.

Rodimus inwardly cursed his selection but he had made his berth, now he had to lay in it. He swiftly moved over to the big bot and tugged on his arm.

“Yes, we were just on our way out! See you later Prowl!” Rodimus said, boisterously, over his shoulder as he turned and pulled the bigger bot along with him. Thankfully, Thunderclash complied silently until they were out of the building and Rodimus could let his hands drop from the big mech’s arm.

“Whew, that was a close one!”

“Any reason why you are avoiding Prowl, Rodimus?” Thunderclash spoke, sounding amused rather than annoyed like he was used to hearing when he skipped out on work.

“Oh, you know, paperwork—psh!” Rodimus said shrugging, not really wanting to give up the goose on his and Megatron’s ‘not-bond’ that could shatter the treaty and spiral them into war again. Because that might be a bummer.

The bigger bot smiled, “I know the feeling, I still have a mountain of it on my own desk.”

Rodimus chuckled, feeling slightly awkward with the small talk.

“So yeah, thanks for your help… uh, what was your name?” Rodimus asked, delighting in a little teasing.

“It’s Thunderclash, we met a couple times… but I suppose that was years ago!” Thunderclash said, sounding a little hurt at not being remembered.

Rodimus wasn’t sure what he was expecting but that reaction hadn’t felt as satisfying as he thought it would.

“Oh, riiiight!” Rodimus said, gently palming his own helm in feigned remembrance, “How could I forget. So what have you been up to lately?”

A little sparkle came back to the colorful mech’s optics, putting Rodimus a little more at ease.

“Just doing my best to help out really. Mediating cases here and there. Mostly trying to help get the fleet off of standby so we can charter ships to the colonies. It’s been so long since we heard from some of them.”

“Hm, neat.” He said with forced disinterest. Truthfully, Rodimus wish he had that job. He desired nothing more than to get off this rock full of stuffy board rooms and council meetings. He wanted adventure again and he bitterly resented having to sit behind that desk while others went out and had it.

“You know, it’s funny, I was actually on my way out to get some fuel… Would you would like to join me?” Thunderclash said, thumbing over his shoulder towards the section of the city that was operational.

For a split second, Rodimus was going to say no. But the more he thought about it, the more he decided that maybe it was a good idea. It would get Prowl off his back for at least an hour and when he got back he would have a good excuse to anyone who asked where he went. Not to mention, if anyone was angry that the _Prime_ got pulled away from his duties then they could go barking at Thunderclash.

“Sure, why not?”

Thunderclash lit up completely this time, his smile beaming brightly, “Alright then, follow me— unless you have some place in mind?” Thunderclash asked, pivoting his body to go.

“Nope, lead the way.” Rodimus said, stepping in line with the bigger bot to follow him.

They walked silently through the streets, slightly busy with other bots like them who were out for their refuel break. Many bots stopped to wave at Thunderclash, inciting more than a little jealousy from Rodimus. He didn’t know why, it’s not like he himself wanted the attention. In fact he wanted just the opposite. He kept his optics forward and his arms crossed when Thunderclash stopped to chitchat briefly with an old acquaintance. When they resumed, he stole a singular glance at the big mech and was met with cheerful red optics looking back at him. He looked away quickly, feeling a little embarrassed for some reason.

Rodimus was taken aback when they reached their destination, Thunderclash ducked into the small entryway of an equally small oil house. It was nearly a straight shot all the way back with only small tables with two seats at them the whole way down. There was a bar but it didn’t have seating and there was only one small red bot behind the counter. A bot Rodimus recognized.

“ _Swerve_?” Rodimus asked, incredulous.

The minibot jumped at the sight of them, “Thunderclash! You’re back! And with Rodimus Prime too! Please, take a seat, what can I get for you? The usual I presume, Thunderclash?” The red minibot hopped down from behind the counter and came over to guide them into a table.

“Yes please, Swerve.” Thunderclash said with a chuckle, turning to Rodimus, “What would you like Rodimus, Swerve has nearly everything here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say everything,” Swerve said bashfully, “But I try to cater to any and all frame types. Jet fuel for seekers is still hard to get though but I’m hoping my contact in Vos comes around.”

“I-I didn’t know you even had a bar, Swerve. This is… great.” Rodimus said, taking in the slightly grubby interior of the place.

“ _Swerve’s_ is up and coming but I bet it’ll be competing with the best of them in no time.” Thunderclash said with a wink in Swerve’s direction, effectively making the minibot blush.

To spare the mini any more embarrassment, and Rodimus from having to watch, he ordered his usual blend of energon and a side of sweets when Swerve mentioned he had them. The red minibot skipped off happily to the back to fetch their order.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting… this.” Rodimus motioned to the rest of the bar.

“Swerve is a good friend of mine and I want to show him my support. And the energon truly is very good. He’s even filtering his own engex but I advise against trying it while on your break, he only really knows how to make it strong right now.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rodimus chuckled as he looked around. He was surprised that Thunderclash and himself were the only bots here seeing that most of the workforce were on their breaks right now.

“How come _Swerve’s_ isn’t more popular?” Rodimus asked, “If the blend is good then I don’t see why we’re the only ones here.”

“Well… Swerve himself isn’t very popular I suppose. And then there’s Blurr’s place just down the road.”

“Ouch, yeah that sounds like tough competition.” More like no competition. Rodimus was sure mechs would rather drink their fuel in close proximity to the old Ibex champion than a small red mini who talked a lot. No offense to Swerve of course.

“But I believe in him, so I try and come here everyday for my fuel.” Thunderclash said with a smile.

Rodimus smiled too, taking in the sight of the big bot who was stooped over in his too small seat. He supposed now he could see why people liked him so much, if he showed this much devotion to all of his friends.

“So…” Thunderclash started, “How was the bonding ceremony? I heard it was quite the party afterwards.”

Rodimus’ smile dropped instantly, “Oh… it was…” Rodimus was going to say ‘alright’ but for some reason that seemed inappropriate. Bonded were supposed to have fun on their wedding night, dance and laugh and to be generally cheerful. So Rodimus modified his response a bit, “ It was great, amazing really. A night to remember really. Devastator made an appearance, Ironhide has his nose broken— it was great!”

“Sounds wonderful, a wedding always brings up everyone’s spirits.” Thunderclash smiled broadly.

For some reason he thought the colorful mech sounded sad. Sad and slightly bitter, “Yeah it was pretty great…”

“And,” Thunderclash added a little stiffly, “You and Megatron will make a great match I’m sure.”

They sat in slightly awkward silence after that, Rodimus not knowing what to say to that. He supposed Thunderclash was probably a mech who believed in bonding for love and was thus uncomfortable with the choice to bond for the treaty. A lot of mechs had originally bonded for the same reasons that Rodimus did, back in the old days. For either power or status, it didn’t matter if the two mechs could even stand one another as long as they both gained a benefit they could agree on. Before the war that was just how it was, mechs didn’t go around sharing their sparks for any reason, it was almost seen as taboo.

During the war however, many mechs didn’t know if they would see each other again and a lot of them didn’t. But bonds were often described as being able to extended past that. Some claimed that they could feel their dead conjunx still, like they had never really left them. So the culture of bonding had rapidly evolved into holding onto the one you loved instead of just a mutual business contract. It was a little strange to think that bonding for love was an idea born from the war.

Rodimus wasn’t sure if he believed in all the spirituality that was spun around being bonded for eternity but he did kind of wish that he could have had more of a choice in his mate for life. He used to often wonder if he would find someone after the war was over, he had plenty of one night stands but he didn’t think any of those mechs were bonding material in either the old or new sense. But he didn’t linger on his past hopes these days. He was simply happy that at least he could kind of stand Megatron. The silver bot butted helms with him sometimes but it never escalated past small arguments. The mech wasn’t even as aggressive as Rodimus thought he would be. 

In fact, unless Rodimus made a point to get under his plating, he was rather passive. At times he was a far cry from the ex-warlord that everyone had known him as. Rodimus hoped it wasn’t old age because, although he would never admit it out loud, he wasn’t all that far behind him in age and he didn’t want to think about his own mortality just yet.

Swerve delivered the energon to a silent table, and he looked between the two, “You two need anything else?”

“Not for me, thanks though, Swerve.” Rodimus said bringing his glass to his lips for a taste. It was actually quite good, warm and spicy with just the right amount of minerals.

“Mm, this is _really_ good, Swerve.” Rodimus said after he took another gulp.

“Why thank you!” The red mini said sounding delighted, “I’ll throw the sweets in for free if you tell a few friends about my place.” He said with a wink.

“Deal,” Rodimus said, popping one into his intake and letting it melt there, “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.”

He looked back at Thunderclash, who was smiling at him for some reason.

“What?” He asked, “Do I have some on my face?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m just glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Thunderclash said with a laugh, “I didn’t think you would be disappointed but I was worried that maybe this isn’t your type of place.”

“Any place with these,” Rodimus held up a candied energon sweet and squished it between his thumb and fore digit, “Is my kind of place.” He then popped it into his mouth.

“So basically, any candy store.” Swerve said snidely from behind the counter.

“Maybe.” Rodimus shot back with a grin, “I’m a speed frame, sweets are practically in my energon!”

“Didn’t racers used to get banned for eating too many sweets?” Swerve asked.

“Those were Nitro pops— completely different story! I only ever tried them once and let me tell you, they will make you miserable with cravings after just one.”

“Is that why they were banned?” Thunderclash said with an incline of his helm.

“No, they were banned because they contained a light circuit booster.” Rodimus laughed when Thunderclash’s face looked appalled.

“In a _candy_?” Thunderclash said in bewilderment.

“Like I said, speed frames like sweets. And what’s better than coming up with a sweet that not only makes them go fast but also gets them heavily addicted?” Rodimus cackled, “The functionists always did like their races.”

“How did they get banned?”

Rodimus was glad they had overcome their awkwardness as they chatted for nearly half an hour about banned candies and inexplicably bonding over how much they really didn’t miss the functionists. He hadn’t expected to warm up so quickly to Thunderclash but as he sat across from the big bot, he couldn’t help but feel strangely close to him already. He had forgotten what it was like to have casual friends that just hung out and talked without consequence. He had Drift sure, but even he had a tendency of reminding Rodimus of his responsibilities after too long.

“I suppose we should probably head back, don’t want you getting in trouble.” Thunderclash said when they had finished their fuel.

“Riiight,” Rodimus grumbled, “Back to work. _Paperwork_.”

“It won’t be this way forever.” The colorful mech stood, slightly huddled under the short roof, and thanked Swerve for their fuel as they left.

“I hope not,” Rodimus continued when they were outside and walking back, “If I have to sit at that desk forever I might just steal a ship and leave.”

Thunderclash laughed, “Just give it time, all things improve with time.”

“You’re a whole lot more optimistic than me.” Rodimus said, glancing at Thunderclash, “But I guess there’s not a whole lot for me to do besides wait.”

“Well if you ever need someone to pass the time with, my office is always open.” Thunderclash smiled warmly at him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rodimus turned to leave to his own office but turned back for a moment, “And thanks, by the way. For helping me get away from Prowl earlier.”

“Don’t mention it, I know he means well but I’ve always found his authoritarian methods a little unpleasant. Don’t let him push you around too much, yeah?” Thunderclash actually gave him a thumbs up and Rodimus felt himself grin.

“Of course. See you later then, Thunders.”

“Goodbye, my Prime.” With that, they parted ways.

But after only taking a few steps, Rodimus stared over his shoulder after the big mech, his faceplate felt very hot for some reason. It felt like that was the first time anyone had called him Prime even though he was sure it wasn’t. Perhaps it was more that someone had called him _their_ Prime. And it was said with such pride…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure there's only like 5 people reading this but idc I'm writing this for myself lmao


	5. Revelations and Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus gets a surprise and Megatron makes an admission...

Rodimus walked back to his office, trying to push his thoughts about Thunderclash away. He started as he heard the familiar voice of Prowl echoing through the halls. He quickened his pace and ducked into a random office as he waited for the voice to pass, sighing in relief as it did. He then turned to look around the office and froze when he saw a bot on the other side of the room sitting behind a desk that was far too large for him. A green and white bot with red optics and a black face insignia stared at him. Rodimus glanced at the name on the desk.

Ultra Magnus.

That couldn’t be right.

“H-Hey, where’s Mags at?”

“Uhhhh,” The smaller bot cleared his intake, “He is out at the moment, I was just… organizing things for him.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Mags is very picky about his organization.” Rodimus warned.

“I know his system, I assure you I am quite alright.”

Rodimus approached and the green bot appeared to clam up a little. Rodimus quirked a brow and squinted at the small green bot, who was buy and large a tenth of the size of Ultra Magnus, but was seated perfectly at his desk. What was he sitting on…?

“Well if that’s all you need, Rodimus Prime, I’ll let Ultra Magnus let you know that you stopped by.” Minimus stacked a few data pads, shuffling them loudly and holding them up in front of his face.

Unconvinced, Rodimus strode forward.

“Stop right there, th-that is close enough!” Minimus didn’t make to move, despite his warning, and Rodimus continued on.

“Are you hiding something?” Rodimus asked, suspicious, “You seem… tense, _Minimus_.”

“I really should be working.” The smaller bot said, pulling stacks of his data pads in front of him, as if to hide behind them.

“But this isn’t your office, and Ultra Magus would be very upset to find out some strange bot has been using it.”

“Ultra Magnus trusts me!”

“Then how come I’ve never seen you around before?” Rodimus planted his hands on the desk and leaned over the desk, “Your badge is autobot but I’ve never even met you.”

Rodimus watched as the green bot’s face flickered between emotions. Then his optics suddenly darted to the side for a split second, if Rodimus had blinked he would have missed it. And so he followed where those red optics had gone. First seeing nothing but a darkened corner where boxes had been stacked and filing cabinets were lined up. Then he did a double take.

As Ultra Magnus—No, the _upper half_ — of Ultra Magnus, was sitting in the corner. 

Rodimus turned back to the bot in front of him in shock, Minimus’ head coming back into place, as he had followed his gaze, and the two stared at each other for second. Then Rodimus abruptly turned to try and flee the room but he was grappled by small green and white arms. He let out a yelp in fright which was cut off by a hand over his mouth.

“Shhhh! Please, Rodimus calm down! Just let me explain!”

Rodimus bit his hand and was released with yowl of pain from Minimus. He spun on his heel and promptly fell to the floor in shock as he looked at the green bot who was now standing. 

And standing with his legs inside the lower half of Ultra Magnus.

“What the f—

* * *

Megatron wasn’t one to be pushed around.

Usually.

Since his reintegration to Cybertron, and thus the reintegration of all decepticons, hinged on him playing nice with the bureaucrats however, he had to concede to a few changes to his leadership role. Which meant he didn’t really have one. He was instead made primary overseer to the rebuilding of Cybertron’s cities. Perhaps they thought he would have been mad about being designated to a mere construction worker but actually, Megatron took pride in his new job, and in causing plenty of trouble for the bots who thought it was beneath them to deal with it.

A knock came from his door.

“Come in, Soundwave.” Megatron said, knowing full well who it was based on the timing of the knock.

The tall blue mech stepped into the room and crossed the threshold with a few data pads in hand.

“More denials I presume?”

“Indeed.” Soundwave agreed, setting down the data pads on the desk.

Megatron snarled a little, “Iacon gets a slew of new buildings and has access to all the resources first. At this rate there will be nothing left for the other cities.”

It being his home, Megatron had hoped to bring Tarn up to better standards of living with his new position. But everywhere he went he was blocked by paperwork or permits. Sometimes he just wanted to _eat_ the stack of data pads and be done with it. But he wasn’t going to give up and fold to some old bureaucracy that thinks it can push him around. No way.

“Soundwave could you make an appointment with the council for tomorrow. Let them know it’s urgent.” Megatron took one of the data pads of the top of the stack and started skimming it.

“Under what circumstances should I file the memo?”

“Doesn’t matter, just make sure I get an audience with them.” Much of the council tried their best to avoid meeting with him, the cowards, “Let them know I’ll be tracking them down one by one if you have to. That’ll get them to make the meeting. They hate having to see me alone. Makes them nervous.”

“Yes… Megatron.”

He paused reading the data pad to look up at his former third in command, who hadn’t moved yet despite not having a reason to linger. Not a reason he had voiced yet at least.

“Was there something you needed, Soundwave?”

“There have been demands for your presence in the med lab.”

Megatron resisted the urge to roll his optics, “I swear, Autobots are the most nervous mechs I’ve ever had to work with. Like they’ve all got scraplets in their plating or something.”

“Megatron agreed to bond with the Prime.”

Almost taken aback, Megatron blinked at Soundwave, “Yes I did, but the when and where was, very cordially, not specified. I wasn’t aware I had to bond with him immediately or else the rest of the treaty would be made _inconsequential_.”

“I take it then, that you have not.”

Megatron stood, feeling his temperature rise with his embarrassment, “So what if I haven’t? There isn’t a single spark on this planet that could get me to open my chest plates if I didn’t want to, and they know that. Let them send their demands. They’ll fall on deaf audials until we’re ready.”

“I am not worried about you,” Soundwave said, unflinching under Megatron’s temper as ever, “The Prime is not as strong-willed as you are.”

“So why are you bothering me then?”

“Rodimus Prime is not the one with the problem bonding. This I know.”

Megatron was taken aback slightly and an awkward silence befell them. Soundwave was right, as per usual, but Megatron was having a tough time admitting it to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bond with Rodimus or that he didn’t like him. It was just…

“He hasn’t been gone that long.” Megatron said, seating himself again and looking away from Soundwave, “Everything happened so fast. I feel like it’s insulting to him.”

“Optimus would have understood.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Megatron set his jaw, “That doesn’t mean that Rodimus nor myself have to to anything we aren’t comfortable with just to please others.

Soundwave was quiet at that. Megatron pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He unclenched his jaw and let himself relax a bit before looking back at his old third in command. Starscream had been right, the slagger, because clearly Soundwave still thought he had to take care of him.

“My word is final, Soundwave. I believe Rodimus isn’t going to let them poke and prod him, and neither will I. If anyone does have the indecency to come to you about it be sure to ask them; was it not enough that we agreed to be bonded at all? We did this for peace because that is what we _all_ wanted. Anyone who is looking for reasons to undo our treaty is in fact looking for _war_. And I will not hesitate to treat them as such.” Megatron said darkly.

Soundwave inclined his head to him, “As you command, Megatron.”

Megatron sighed and leaned back in his chair to let the tension release from his shoulders.

“A ‘yes’ will do just fine in the future.”

* * *

“Rodimus calm down!”

Rodimus stood waving his hands at the atrocity standing in front of him, “There is a tiny mech standing in your body! _How can I be calm_?”

“It-It’s a long story, just let me explain.”

“Well you better start talking! Quickly.” Rodimus crossed his arms.

Listening to the story however, didn’t really put him at ease though. If anything it just made things worse. Finding out that Ultra Magnus—the original one—had died early in the war and had been replaced _several_ times throughout. He felt like he had lost a friend all of a sudden even though, as far as either of them new, this was the only Ultra Magnus he had ever met. Ultra Magnus— _Minumus_ slouched back into the chair after he was finished with his story, his helm in his hands.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this Rodimus,” Minumus, begged, “No one would take me seriously if they ever knew.”

“ _I_ can’t even take you seriously with your upper half like that. Why were you just sitting in here with the door unlocked if you didn’t want anyone finding out.”

“I was airing it out, the armor gets _stuffy_ , and I _did_ lock it.” Minimus stood and crossed the room to the door, “It even says it’s still locked… I will have to get someone to take a look at it later.”

“Well,” Rodimus chewed his lip in thought, “If you let me hide out here from time to time I might think about keeping your secret.”

Minumus turned around, hands on his small hips, his large foot tapping in irritation. “Extortion, really Rodimus?”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m going to take it as a yes since you haven’t said no,” Rodimus grinned cheekily, “I mean it though, I won’t tell another spark so long as I live, promise!”

“Hm,” Minimus remained quiet as he crossed the room again but this time to the corner where his other half lay and folded at the waist of the Magnus armor. After a few moments of clanking there was a loud click and Ultra Magnus stood up, whole again.

“If you are going to drop by, unexpectedly, at least do me the favor of _knocking_ first.”

* * *

Rodimus spent the rest of his work hours in his office, hoping to avoid any other world shattering revelations for the day.

As soon as the time came, Rodimus was speeding down the hallways and out the door. He never thought he would be so relieved to see Megatron standing outside the senate building as he made his way down the steps. Only to be stopped abruptly by Prowl yet again.

“Going somewhere?”

Rodimus staggered in place for a second, “Uh, home?” He said innocently.

“Rodimus, is there a reason you’re avoiding going to see the medics?” Prowl’s optics narrowed at him.

Rodimus heaved a sigh and glanced at the silver mech who was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps.

Megatron bore a frown on his face. The look in his optics was one of concern or disappointment, Rodimus couldn’t tell which. But, seeing that Rodimus was stuck, the big mech made a move to come over to where they were. Probably to intervene and get Prowl to back off. Rodimus thought he would be relieved but instead he felt a pit in his tanks. He didn’t want Megatron to have to fight his battles. He never needed him before and he didn’t now. With that in mind, he crossed his arms at Prowl.

“The reason doesn’t matter, I’m not going to go Prowl, you can’t make me. I’m not going to tomorrow, or the day after.”

Prowl opened his mouth to protest but Rodimus silenced him by holding up a hand.

“And you’re going to be ok with that. You’re going to stop harassing me and my conjunx and let us go to the medics when we are good and ready. Is that understood?”

He could almost hear Prowl grit his dentae, but by the time the Praxian opened his mouth to speak again, Megatron had appeared by their side and subsequently stole whatever he was going to say from his mouth.

“I do believe my conjunx and your Prime has spoken, has he not?” Megatron said with probably the first gleeful smirk Rodimus had ever seen him wear.

Prowl’s scowl deepened and he said not another word as he turned on his heel to leave. Stomping away quite dramatically, and Rodimus almost chuckled. Almost.

He looked back at Megatron who was still smiling at him.

“What?” Rodimus put his hands on his hips.

“Oh nothing,” Megatron turned and started back down the steps again and Rodimus followed suit, “I’m just happy to see you’re finally the one giving the orders.”

“Psh, thanks,” Rodimus said snidely, “Nice to know you had so little faith in me.”

He caught Megatron’s optic as they walked, “I had complete faith in you. Soundwave on the other hand…”

“Soundwave?” Rodimus said in disbelief, “I didn’t think Soundwave _cared_ enough to have no faith in me.”

Megatron let out a rumbling laugh, “Soundwave cares more than you would think. But I’m glad you proved him wrong. I’m proud of you.”

Rodimus was taken aback by that last statement. He almost stopped walking for a moment as he tried to regain his composure. It had been a very long time since anyone had ever been proud of him, for any reason. He wasn’t sure if he even deserved it. After all, all he did was stand up for himself, something he should have been able to do without needing a pat on the back.

“You’re being quiet.”

Rodimus snapped his head up from looking at the street to Megatron again, who was giving him a curious look.

“I was just thinking.”

“I could tell, you make this face when you’re deep in thought.” Megatron commented, “It’s almost like I can see your processor moving on your face.”

Rodimus felt his face heat up a little, feeling slightly self-conscious, “Is it really that obvious?”

“Maybe not to others, but we have spent quite some time together now.”

“Oh.” Rodimus wondered how often Megatron stared at him when he wasn’t looking. Often enough to tell when Rodimus was thinking, obviously, but not enough for Rodimus to have ever caught him.

“If you’re wondering why I know that, it’s because the best way to predict what someone is going to do is to study their face,” Megatron said as if reading his mind, “And you’re the most unpredictable bot I know so I felt the need to study you.”

“I’m not that unpredictable.”

“You are when you aren’t trying to be.”

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Maybe you’re not as good at reading people as you think you are.”

“That’s a possibility,” Megatron said, still sounding infuriatingly smug, “Another is that you are impulsive.”

Rodimus paused before letting out a huff, “Maybe, so?”

They eased into silence as they neared their apartment. Too often they would run out of things to say these days. There were things Rodimus could say, but he spent too long wondering if he should to even bother trying. Megatron always seemed so content to wallow in the silence that Rodimus dared not break it. He wondered if things were always going to be this way. With them being completely quiet for the rest of their days after they’ve exhausted their small talk. He still felt as if he barely knew the silver mech. He knew he liked to read but he wasn’t entirely sure what about.

Rodimus needed to find some more common ground for them to hold onto and quick. They needed to become more comfortable if they were ever going to hope to bond. And who knew how long Prowl would actually let them have their peace before getting others involved. For now at least, they could rest easy.

Now if only Rodimus could just get the nightmares to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed the Friday update! I had some stuff I wanted to rewrite so I pushed the chapter. If you ever are curious why an update isn't out you can check up on it on my blog @ dangerouslyclassyhottub on tumblr. I'll tag any posts I make about this fic with 'unintended consequences' or 'my writing'.


	6. On the List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus gets curious.

_*Get up.*_

_Hot Rod hears a voice and tries to obey but his body won’t listen._

_*You can make it. You just need to. Get. Up.*_

_An ungodly shriek sounds over his helm._

* * *

Rodimus wakes from his nap, almost unfazed by the memory that has plagued his dreams as of late. He looks up at Drift who is reading a data pad, Rodimus’ helm resting on his thigh. The two of them were taking a little time off together after the day’s work and Rodimus had been comfortable enough to doze off a little.

Too bad the dream had other things in mind.

He tapped his fingers on his own chest plating, secretly cursing the matrix which lay beneath. That thought blossomed a thought about another who had carried it. He hadn’t expected to get along so well with Thunderclash the other day. He hadn’t gone to see him since then but he honestly had thought about it a few times. He was about to tell Drift what he was thinking when a thought suddenly occurred to Rodimus and an overwhelming curiosity began to nag him.

“Hey Drift, do you still have the guest list for the ceremony?”

“Huh?” Drift looked down at him, “Yeah I do, why?”

“I just wanted to see something.” Rodimus said, casually.

“Hm, well.” The white speedster unsubspaced a mini data pad and handed it to him, “Have at it I guess. What’s on your mind?”

Rodimus took it gingerly and began going through the list, “I just thought of someone who wasn’t there who I thought would be.”

“Who?” 

“Uhh,” Rodimus paused while he looked and, sure enough, there he was.

“Thunderclash.”

“I thought you hated that guy.” Drift sounded amused.

“Yeah but he was invited to the event of the century—the millennia even, and he didn’t even show up.” Rodimus frowned.

“Maybe he was busy?” Drift said, noncommittally.

“I guess.” Rodimus sighed.

“I know that sigh, what’s up?” Drift set down his own data pad he had been reading.

“Well,” Rodimus paused, “I sort of went out for fuel with him the other day.”

“Okay…” Drift said giving him a look to continue.

“Well we got to talking and he was… Nice? I guess. Nicer than I thought he’d be. He got me out of a tight spot with Prowl with no questions asked so… that was cool.”

“And?”

“And…” Rodimus sat up, suddenly aggravated, “Why didn’t he come to the party? He was clearly invited. He even asked me how it was, as if he couldn’t have come and seen it for himself!” He crossed his arms and inwardly steamed.

“So, let me get this straight, you’re upset that a guy you don’t like—

“Didn’t.” Rodimus interjected, “He’s alright so I guess I like him _now_.”

“Alright, so you’re upset that a guy you _thought_ you disliked didn’t show up to your bonding celebration?”

“Megatron had Starscream there, why couldn’t I have my own nemesis at the party?” Rodimus said, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounded. “I don’t know, it just bothers me… like maybe he thought he was too good to show up.”

“I’m sure that’s not why he didn’t come. Maybe he was just busy. And not everyone likes to party, he gets a lot attention already anyways.”

Rodimus huffed, “I _guess_.”

“Well if it bothers you so much why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him?” Rodimus spluttered.

“Yeah, it’s that thing you do when you need clarification.” Drift said wryly, “It’s not hard, I’ll be you and you’ll be Thunderclash,” Drift cleared his intake and turned himself to face Rodimus fully.

“Hey Thunderclash, is ok if I call you Thunders? Anyway, why didn’t you come to my bonding celebration, is it because you think you’re better than me, yes or no?” Drift said, making his voice very high and flippant while doing his ‘Rodimus’ impression.

Rodimus scowled at Drift, “Firstly… _Rude_. Secondly, you don’t think he’ll get all bent out of shape if I ask him?”

“Only if you say it exactly how I did and that’s still only a maybe. He seems like a stand-up guy, I’m sure he’s not going to get offended if you simply ask why he didn’t come.” Drift said settling back into the sofa.

Rodimus made a face, “That means I need to go see him though.”

“If it helps, I have his number.”

“What?!” Rodimus optics bulged in surprise, “Why do you have that?!”

“I met him once about a year ago and he said if I ever wanted to go through with building my own Spectralist church that he would help me out.” Drift shrugged.

“Primus,” Rodimus grimaced, “He really is _such_ a goody two-shoes.”

“He seems genuine enough to me. I’ve just never gotten around to really planning for the church… I’m not even sure if the following would be big enough to start one. The culture of Cybertron has really gone to the Pits.”

“Yeah…” Rodimus looked down at his hands.

A familiar sense of guilt rose from his tanks. Prime’s were supposed to be the cultural leaders of the planet; a tie to their deity and their religion. Rodimus felt entirely out of his depth with that. He had been religious in his younger years but as the war grew longer it had been hard to keep his faith. Not like he could call himself a non-believer either because of the proof he had in his own chest. But how could he bring himself to preach to others about a god who spared him from dying? Wouldn’t that sound just plain biased? And not only a god that spared _him_ , a nobody from Nyon, but a god who let so many others perish…

“Roddy?”

Rodimus didn’t realize he had gone quiet and he looked up at his friend who was giving him a curious look.

“Sorry, I got lost in thought, you were saying?” Rodimus inwardly shook the cobwebs from his processor.

“Do you want his number? Thunderclash?”

Rodimus shook his helm, “Nah, I work just down the hall from him I think. If I get the brass, I’ll just go down and talk to him myself.”

“Talk to who?”

Both speedster’s snapped their attention to Megatron who had entered the living space from his room.

“Thunderclash.” Drift filled in before Rodimus could stop him.

“Oh?” Megatron said, walking to fill his cube in the kitchen, “What for?”

“Rodimus thinks he—” Drift began before Rodimus nearly shoved his whole hand into his mouth.

“I just want to pick his brain about some work stuff that’s all.” Rodimus continued, trying to sound casual despite holding Drift’s mouth shut. He released his amica as Megatron turned around to look at them quizzically.

“What sort of work stuff?” Megatron asked, sounding a bit like he wasn’t buying Rodimus’ explanation.

“Uh, things about the colonies— I heard he’s trying to charter a ship to one and I’m curious if maybe they could help us revive Cybertron’s culture…” Rodimus said, coming up with as probable an excuse as he could. He could see Drift give him a look out of the corner of his optic though.

“Sounds interesting.” Megatron still didn’t sound convinced but a small smile tugged the corners of his lip plates, “Well, I’d say to tell him 'hello' from me, but I know he doesn’t like me.” With that the silver mech left with his mug of energon, cryptic as ever.

Drift crossed his arms at him.

“What?”

“Why keep things from him?” Drift scolded, “He’s your conjunx, bonded or not, you should tell him things.”

“Come on Drift, it’s just something small,” Though in the back of Rodimus’ helm, he could name one very big thing he probably should have told the mech a long time ago, “Besides it’s embarrassing, I don’t need him knowing that Thunderclash gets under my plating.”

“If you say so, just don’t make a habit of it. It’s not good to hide things from people who care about you.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Rodimus said before standing, “Hey we should go bug Bumblebee, It’s been awhile since we’ve seen him.”

“Was that a pun about his Earth name?” Drift stood.

“Maybe.” Rodimus grinned and turned to the door with Drift in tow, “Hey maybe we’ll go pay a visit to Ratchet while we’re at it.”

Rodimus ducked as Drift aimed a swat to the back of his helm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, I want to go back to shorter chapters actually, they're easier to edit and I can get them up faster. Curse my adhd brain 😖But I want to continue to put chapters up twice a week while I'm self-isolating. I hope yall are out there staying safe too.


	7. Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus realizes he's not the only one moving on.

“BUMBLEBEEEEEEE!” Rodimus shouted as loud as he could while watching a blue shell smack right into him before he could cross the finish line in their racing game.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Bumblebee said, giddy as ever, as he stole first place while Rodimus was stunned.

“Well, looks like I won again, any other challengers?” Bumblebee said turning to look at the other four mechs in the room. Thundercracker and Sideswipe both shook their heads violently in fear with their controllers covering their faces. Sunstreaker just replied ‘no’ while not even looking up from painting his nails, a habit he picked up from earth, his controller left untouched. Drift just laughed and set his own controller down.

“I think we’ve all had enough of a beating for today.” Drift said as Rodimus hung his helm in shame.

Rodimus leaned back from his sitting position, “If this were a real race I’d beat you.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“What was that?” Bee said, challenging.

“You heard me.” Rodimus smirked. “Shorty.”

“Alright, that’s it.” Bumblebee took the bait and tackled Rodimus. The two of them tussled, not aiming to do any damage, but ultimately Rodimus ended up with Bee in a headlock.

“Alright you two, quit it, you’re gonna break something.” Sideswipe said, splitting them up, “ And if it’s one of my controllers, I’ll kick both your afts.”

A bark came from Buster, Thundercracker’s pet dog, “I think it’s time we called it a night. Buster’s getting tired.” Thundercracker said, lifting her from his lap into his cockpit.

“This was fun, we should do this more often.” Rodimus said, standing up and helping Bee to his pedes.

“Actually, Thundercracker and I both had something to tell you guys.”

“Oh my god, you’re getting married too.” Sunstreaker said, sitting up suddenly.

Both bots turned furious shades of red, simultaneously shouting, “What, _no_!”

Bumblebee composed himself first, “No that’s not it, but uh… we are going to be moving together. We’re both going to move to Earth.”

“What!” Rodimus stammered a bit, “B-but why?”

“Why Bee?” Sideswipe whined.

Bumblebee shrugged, “There just isn’t much here for me anymore. I thought after the war my feelings would change but…” Bee paused and looked out his window to the ruined streets of Iacon.

“This just isn’t home anymore. But I have friends on Earth who are going to let me stay with them.”

“But we’re your friends! What about Jazz and Hound? What about Ratchet?” Rodimus said waving to the other bots in the room.

Bumblebee grimaced, “Thundercracker, back me up here.”

“It’s hard to really… articulate.” Thundercracker said slowly, “But we just feel like Cybertron isn’t where we want to be right now. We don’t really know what to do with ourselves. But on Earth we have a chance to use our skills, do _something_. Bee is going to be an Earth liaison, and I’m finally going to try my hand at script writing.” Thundercracker grinned.

Rodimus glanced between the two of them sadly, “But…”

“Roddy, don’t take it personally. We’re just trying to move on…” Bumblebee said patting him on the arm.

Rodimus could hear the unspoken portion of his statement however. Bumblebee in particular had been very close with Optimus. It only made sense that with him gone that the yellow bot wouldn’t want to stick around reminders of him. And Iacon was full of them. Including Rodimus himself.

“I know. I guess…” Rodimus looked at Bee, one of his closest friends, “I’m just going to miss you.” He pulled him into a hug.

“Rodimus, please! You’re going to make me cry!” Bumblebee patted him on the back, his voice already sounding foggy from tears, “I’m not leaving until after Arcee’s wedding next week anyway, and I promise I’ll visit often!”

“Alright, everyone bring it in,” Rodimus heard Sideswipe say before he felt several arms wrap around him, “You too Sunny.”

“Do I have to?” Sunstreaker said from where he lay on the sofa.

“Group hugs are mandatory, it’s in the Autobot code, dumbaft.” Sideswipe said pointedly, “Now get over here.”

“ _Fine_.” Sunstreaker said before he too joined in.

Rodimus smiled happily, feeling warmth from being surrounded by his friends. As fleeting as it might be.

“Hey Thundercracker, can you at least take Starscream _with you_ when you go?”

* * *

Rodimus walked lazily out of the senate building for his break. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking around for Drift who was supposed to meet him. He started slightly when he saw him approaching with another bot. A familiar face at least, a smaller bot by the name of Pipes.

“Hey, what’s up?” Rodimus said cautiously to both mechs as they approached.

“Sorry Roddy, I invited Pipes to come along because he’s… well he’s not feeling well.”

As if on cue the bot in question started to cry and from the look Drift gave him, he had probably been doing a lot of that before they even got there.

“It’s no problem! The more the merrier, we’ll go to this new place I found, it’ll be nice and quiet and we can try and cheer you up Pipes!” Rodimus said, wincing when Pipes embraced him, muttering thanks through sobs.

Drift shrugged at him and the three of them quickly made their way to Swerve’s, where Rodimus was positive they would have an empty bar to themselves. The red mini greeted them gleefully enough, which suggested that perhaps they had been his first patrons of the day.

“I’ll just have my normal order Swerve, but uh… maybe get something stronger for Pipes here.” Rodimus said as they helped the still weeping mech into a seat.

“I’ll have the same as Roddy I guess.” Drift said after gazing up at the menu for a moment.

“You got it!” Swerve chirped as he went about making their order.

Pipes sniffled for a while and Rodimus decided he couldn’t hold his curiosity any longer.

“Sooo… what’s got you down Pipes? Your turbofox die?” Rodimus saw Drift shoot him a disapproving look but he could only shrug back in response.

“No,” Pipes sniffed again before a large glass of engex was plopped in front of him, which he took and chugged.

“I gave him the biggest size, he looks like he needs it…” Swerve whispered in Rodimus’ audial before scurrying away for the rest of their order.

Pipes took two more swigs before he finally set the glass down, subsequently hiccuping after, “The— _hic_ — love of my life is leaving for Earth tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Rodimus cringed a little, feeling uncertain on how to move forward from here, “And you can’t… change his mind?”

“He doesn’t exactly know that— _hic_ —I love him.” Pipes continued, “I never— _hic_ —got the chance to tell him… and now I never will!” And promptly started to sob once more.

“It’s okay—it’s going to be okay, Pipes. You’ll find someone else.” Drift said, patting him on the back.

“No— _hic_ —I’m not! He was perfect: a sea alt with not too much kibble— _hic_ —and he wasn’t too much taller than me!” Pipes took another sip from his glass.

“Well how do you know he doesn’t feel the same way about you? Maybe he’ll—” Rodimus tried to offer but Pipes leaned over and actually _shushed_ him with a finger, and Rodimus barely restrained biting said finger off.

“He definitely doesn’t feel the same… No— _hic_ — he’s runnin’ off with some… some! _Mermaid!_ ” Pipes spat the word.

“A… mermaid?” Rodimus asked, confused but not wanting to point out that they weren’t actually real. He looked to Drift who clarified.

“I think he means a marine biologist.” Drift shrugged.

“Ah,” Rodimus said quietly, “Well… maybe he wasn’t all that perfect after all. There are plenty of other bots out there Pipes, you shouldn’t give up because of one guy.”

“You— _hic_ —you really think so?” Pipes said sadly, with not a shred of hope in his voice.

“Yeah!” Rodimus said enthusiastically, trying to raise his spirits from what might have been the after life at this point, “You just need a proper avenue to meet someone new, I’m sure you’ll find someone in no time at all!”

“Okay, how?” Pipes said looking at him all of a sudden, as if maybe he was calling Rodimus on his bluff.

“Uh—” Rodimus froze, looking to Drift for help.

The two panicked for a moment before Drift landed on, “What about a crew! Yeah, a crew on a ship to one of the colonies!”

“You’re absolutely right Drift!” Rodimus said, rolling with it, “Think about it, close proximity with your fellow bots, the beauty and isolation of space! Then think about all the bots you’ll meet once you get to the colonies! You’ll probably meet hundreds of sea alt mechs in a day!” Rodimus said, selling the idea as best as he could.

“But how would I even get— _hic_ —assigned to a crew? I’m not exactly— _hic_ —adventurer material.” Pipes moped slightly, but the fact that he was on board with their idea thrilled Rodimus weirdly.

“Rodimus could put in a good word for you,” Drift said with a twinkle in his optic.

“Could you?”

“Yeah, sure, why not!” Rodimus grinned.

“Hey, he’ll even do you one better and go down to see Captain Thunderclash himself and recommend you!”

Rodimus choked.

“Will you?” Pipes was looking right at him now, his visor gleaming brightly with hope.

“Y-Yeah, of course…. absolutely!” Rodimus said, trying hard to retain his enthusiasm but shooting daggers at Drift with his optics at the same time.

“That would be so great— _hic_ — Rodimus! Thank you!” Pipes threw his arms around Rodimus and the speedster had to strain to hold them both upright on their seats. After finishing their fuel, Drift and Rodimus helped Pipes back to his place before meandering back to the senate building.

“You did that on purpose.” Rodimus accused as they walked.

“Did what?” Drift said, so innocently.

“You just wanted me to go see Thunderclash.” Rodimus crossed his arms.

“Well, didn’t you? Come on, I’m curious! I want to know why big Thunders didn’t show up too.” Drift said, putting an arm around him, “You should be thanking me, this way you at least have a real reason to go down to his office instead of just your prying question.”

Rodimus could concede to that, “Fine, I’ll go see him today then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Drift said patting him on the back before nudging him towards the steps of the building, “I’ll swing by your place tonight, I want _details_!” Drift laughed as he walked away.

Rodimus groaned a little aloud to himself as he walked up the steps and summoned all of his will to find Thunderclash’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating on Monday. My family lost a pet. I'm trying to stay positive but I've suffered a lot of loss recently and the whole self isolation really isn't helping. Writing this fic still brings me joy at least, but I don't want to burn out so I'll be updating only once a week now unless I feel like it. I'm not going to set a specific day but it'll probably be between Tuesdays and Fridays.


	8. All Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Thunderclash talk, and they both put their foot in their mouth.

Thunderclash picked up a data pad from his pile and sighed when the document on it read 200 pages. Which meant, with an average of a signature every two pages, he would be in for a long afternoon with only one of his many data pads. Sometimes he hated some of the bots who came up with this extreme amount of paperwork. But he supposed it was a small price to pay for a working government.

He leaned back in his chair and had just started on the second page when he heard a knock at his door. He stifled a groan. A visitor meant a break from the mind numbing data pads but it also meant that his work wasn’t getting done. He sighed and politely asked for them to enter as he straightened his desk.

He felt his spark skip a beat however, when he saw who opened the door.

“Ah, Rodimus it’s you!” Thunderclash exclaimed happily.

“Yup, just me,” Rodimus stood next to the door, “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“No, no, please come in, have a seat if you’d like,” Thunderclash grinned, motioning Rodimus forward, “Is there something I can do for you?”

“No—I mean yes, that’s why I came, uh,” Rodimus took a seat across from him. Thunderclash noted the way he fidgeted with his hands, “I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor? Nothing big, just something for a friend of mine.”

Thunderclash felt like his spark was going a mile a minute. Rodimus came to him for help with something. This felt unreal for some reason. He’d never been in his good graces before so he wasn’t sure if this was something he did often or if perhaps this was a special occasion. Either way, Thunderclash was eager to please. He prayed whatever the speedster needed was within his grasp.

“I can see what I can do, what sort of favor do you need?” Thunderclash asked, keeping his tone as mild as possible so as not to betray his inward excitement.

“I have this friend who… well lets just say he’s having some trouble with love.” Rodimus said quickly, “And he’s looking for a chance to get away from Cybertron for a while, and I was hoping maybe you could get him a spot on a crew to the colonies.”

Thunderclash took a moment to process that, “Trouble with love?”

Rodimus shrugged, “Yeah, apparently his _unrequited_ love of his life is running off with someone on Earth.”

“Oh.” Thunderclash felt nervous all of a sudden, perhaps because this story was maybe a little too close to home, but he also felt a little sympathy for said mech, “I can imagine that must be… unpleasant.”

“Must be, if all the crying was anything to go by.” Rodimus said leaning on the desk, “So Drift and I came up with the thought of him joining up with a crew to the colonies. We sold it as a way to meet someone new but I think the experience would also be a welcome distraction too, he’s got a real adventurer’s spirit in his spark.”

“Hm, well we still have a long ways to go before we start assembling a crew but I’ll take his name into _high_ consideration.” Thunderclash said with a smile, relieved that this favor was well within his power to grant. He almost winked at the speedster but he thought better of it. Rodimus probably wouldn’t appreciate such a casual gesture from him.

“Awesome, thanks—”

A knock came from the door and as it began to open Rodimus stood and vaulted over the desk and crouched down besides Thunderclash. He was too dumbstruck by the quick movement that he didn’t even have time to react properly before the mech at the door had stepped inside.

“Hello, _Prowl_ ,” Thunderclash said with a little bit of emphasis on his name, seeing Rodimus stiffen next to him at the designation, “Did you need something, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Did you happen to see Rodimus come by here?” Prowl asked, obviously irritated, “He was supposed to have a meeting with Tyrest and Ultra Magnus fifteen minutes ago.”

Thunderclash shrugged and shook his helm, “No, I’ve been in my office all day. Perhaps try the court lounge, I hear he likes to stack the chairs into a castle.”

Prowl rolled his optics and left with not another word.

Rodimus popped up from behind the desk, “Whew, that was a close one. Thanks for not ratting me out.”

Thunderclash shrugged, “It’ll only work until it doesn’t, eventually Prowl will realize I’ve been helping you sooner or later.”

“Preferably later, also I don’t make castles, I build forts!” Rodimus put his hand on his hip, cocking it slightly in a way that made Thunderclash feel very warm suddenly.

“My mistake,” He said, his intake running dry, “I saw your last work of art and couldn’t help but admire it’s complexities so I assumed it must have been a castle.”

“Thanks,” Rodimus began to walk back around the desk, much to Thunderclash’s relief and slight disappointment, “I’m kind of surprised you haven’t told me off for slacking yet.”

“I don’t think it’s my place to tell you what to do with your time, Rodimus,” Thunderclash shifted in his chair a bit, “All of us are doing our parts and things are moving forward. After what you’ve been through, I don’t think we should be relying on you so much.”

Rodimus turned to him, frowning, “You don’t think they can count on me?”

Thunderclash felt his spark drop, “I didn’t say that—”

“So you don’t think I can handle it then.” Rodimus’ expression was darkening and Thunderclash desperately tried to back pedal.

“No, that isn’t what I meant at all—” Thunderclash felt so confused, he didn’t know how he could have offended him so quickly.

“Just forget it.” Rodimus turned from him and stomped away, “I have a meeting to get to apparently.” 

Thunderclash watched him go and felt his spark go with him, leaving him with an unshakeable melancholy. He didn’t even know how to set this right because he wasn’t sure what he said wrong. He picked up his data pad, continuing from where he left off, but he just didn’t have his focus anymore. He was going to have to set things right or else it was just going to make things awkward between them the longer it went on. 

Chewing on the side of his cheek, he made up his mind. He had to go and apologize before the day was out, or else he might not get a chance to.

* * *

Rodimus bristled as he doodled on a data pad, his body slumped over in his seat and his chin resting on the top of his desk.

The end of the day was nearing but be couldn’t bring himself to do anymore work. He was too upset.

His meeting with Tyrest and Ultra Magnus had gone less than well. Tyrest wanted Rodimus to become an enforcer, much like Ultra Magnus. His thinking was logical, being a Prime he could get a lot of bots to keep to the law. But that wasn’t something Rodimus wanted to do, in fact it was the very last thing he wanted. Luckily Ultra Magnus was on his side and thought that a Prime shouldn’t be reduced to just another cop.

The problem came afterwards when Tyrest questioned his purpose entirely. He wasn’t a religious leader, nor a military one, and he refused to be a ‘leader of the peace,’ as Tyrest called it. What good was he for anyway? He was just a name on paperwork these days. He had no further purpose than that he supposed.

Tyrest then went on to almost verbally berate him on keeping away from the press. Everyday he would get notices, emails, voice pings, messages in all forms, asking about who he was going to back for leader of Cybertron. The political atmosphere was positively buzzing with rumors, most of which weren’t true, especially the one that said that Rodimus himself was going to run. The more Rodimus got used to being Prime, the more he was convinced that Optimus had it easy when all he had to do was fight Megatron and the decepticons.

Rodimus let out a rough sigh.

A gentle knock came from his door and for a moment he wasn’t sure if he had heard it or not.

“Whose there?” Rodimus called, his chin still resting on his desk.

“Rodimus? It’s me… Thunderclash.”

Oh great. The universe must really be laughing at him. He’d almost forgot about their little tiff they’d had before his meeting. In hindsight he supposed he had jumped to conclusions. But he hated it when people implied that he was incompetent. Nothing got under his plating faster than being told he wasn’t capable. He’d spent so much of his life trying to prove that point wrong.

Rodimus soured his expression for a moment before releasing it, “Come in.”

Thunderclash entered, ducking through the already large doorway, and strode forward. Rodimus had almost forgotten just how big this mech was, standing almost an arm and a half taller then him, it took him only three strides to cross the room to his desk. He then inclined his helm to him, bending slightly at the waist in a half bow.

“Rodimus, I don’t want to take up too much of your time but I didn’t want to leave off after our last conversation.”

Great, more arguing. Just what he needed.

“Just get it over with will you,” Rodimus sat back, realizing his doodles were in plain sight he slapped a hand down over them in embarrassment, “And sit down will you, you’re making me strain my neck.” Rodimus grumbled. He hid is drawings while Thunderclash pulled up a chair and sat. 

“Rodimus, I didn’t come here to tell you that you were wrong about what I said. But I wanted to come and ask what made you so upset. That way I can refrain from doing so in the future.” Thunderclash said, his tone was quiet and gentle. Not at all what Rodimus had been expecting, he had thought the other mech would be contrary with him for sure.

Rodimus looked at him dubiously, “You mean you don’t know?”

Thunderclash looked confused, “Know what, my Prime?”

“ _‘Know what,’”_ Rodimus repeated with venom, “Know that I’m useless! That they gave me this crummy desk job to keep an optic on me so I don’t do something stupid!”

Thunderclash looked appalled, “I don’t think that’s true.”

Rodimus shook his helm, “What papers do you think they send me? You’d think a Prime would have more power than—than,” Rodimus grabbed a data pad, “Than: where to put the new hospital; what stops on the subway system should be repaired first; w _hat color to paint the memorial museum_.”

Rodimus let the data pad drop from his hands, “Most of which the decisions were made without me anyway and I’m just signing off on them.”

There was a loud silence between them as the both looked directly at one another. Rodimus had never held another mech’s gaze for so long but he felt like he couldn’t look away either. He was completely captivated by those red optics, their soft magenta glow pulling him in.

“I see,” Thunderclash said quietly, folding his hands, “I think I understand now, and I hope you’ll accept my apology. I spoke without realizing your predicament Rodimus. I did not mean to insult you.”

Rodimus felt the fire of his temper dissipating and he looked down finally, away from Thunderclash’s apologetic optics that held his gaze hostage.

“Yeah, I know,” Rodimus slumped back in his chair, hanging his helm a little, “I’m sorry too I guess, I probably shouldn’t be taking all this out on you.”

“If it helps,” Thunderclash started quietly, “I also get my fair share of ‘is it okay if I put this here?’ memos. A lot of bots are really uncertain about things and sometimes they just need someone to reassure them. I don’t think there is any shame in it, when all of us are trying to pick up the pieces of Cybertron.”

Rodimus sighed, “I know, I just… I never pictured what being a Prime would be like but didn’t think it would be so… boring.”

Thunderclash shrugged, “Things won’t always be this way. I’m sure there is more to being a Prime than just telling people what to do anyway.”

“Like what?” Rodimus asked, a little hopeful for some insight.

Thunderclash smiled, looking a little sheepish. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. In all likelihood, I don’t think even Optimus himself knew what the purpose of a Prime was.”

Rodimus frowned, he was hoping for a little more than that but he supposed that was probably asking for too much from someone who had only carried the Matrix to keep it safe.

“But,” Thunderclash said, “You won’t have to figure it out alone. We’re all here to help you.”

Rodimus scoffed lightly, “Yeah, I have plenty of people already telling me how to think and what to do.”

“You don’t have to listen to them if you don’t want to. If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that you have incredible instincts; I know you’ll make the right decisions.” Thunderclash smiled and Rodimus felt himself wither slightly under it’s intensity.

“Well… I don’t know about all that.” Rodimus felt a familiar gnawing in his tanks but he pushed it away, “But thank you. It’s nice to have someone on my side for once.”

“We’re all on your side Rodimus. Some just show it differently than I—”

Both of them started as a very catchy 80s Earth song sounded from Rodimus’ personal data pad. He quickly grabbed it and mashed the off button, his embarrassment peaking. He smiled his own sheepish smile at Thunderclash.

“Sorry about that, that’s my alarm… it means it’s quittin’ time so…”

“Ah, I hope I didn’t waste too much of your time.” Thunderclash said as they both stood.

“Don’t worry about it, I was done for the day really.” Rodimus admitted, though he shoved his doodle pad into the drawer of his desk as slyly as he could, “And it was cool of you to come and apologize.”

“I just don’t want there to be any bitterness to be between us, especially if we might be working together.”

Rodimus perked up, “Together?”

“Chartering ships to the colonies? I took it that you were interested?” Thunderclash and him exited his office, Thunderclash keeping in step with him as they walked to the front of the building.

“Yes!” Rodimus said, bursting from his seems with excitement but tampering it out, remembering to keep his composure, “I mean, yeah! Some adventure sounds exciting, seeing the colonies, getting all lost in space.” Rodimus grinned at his own little joke.

Thunderclash beamed at him, “Then it’s settled, I’ll let the council know about it. I really appreciate all the help I can get.”

The two made it to the top of the front steps and Thunderclash paused, “This is where I’ll have to leave you, I still need to go and lock my office for the day, but I’ll see you when we resume next week?”

“Yeah, you got it!” Rodimus said, giving him a thumbs up, “Later, Thunders!”

Thunderclash waved him off before retreating inside and Rodimus met up with Megatron at the bottom of the steps. He greeted the silver mech by bumping their shoulders together gently.

“So, Megs, you ready for the wedding this weekend?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Megatron replied with little to no enthusiasm.

Rodimus laughed, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.” Megatron said simply.

“Really? Why?” Rodimus raised a brow at him.

“To keep an optic on _you_.” Megatron said with a smile.

Rodimus gave him a mock scandalized look in return.

* * *

Rodimus sat sat on his couch, peacefully listening to music and doodling some more, as he was prone to do a lot these days. He was startled from his thoughts when two hands slammed onto his living room table, making him jump.

“Drift! You scared the rust out of me!”

“So! How did it go?” Drift said, excitedly. He sat down next to Rodimus and poked him in the side.

“Go?” Rodimus said, confused.

“Hello? Thunderclash? Why didn’t he show up to the bonding celebration? The whole ‘Pipes’ thing?”

Rodimus felt his jaw drop a little, “Oh, uh… I forgot.”

“You _forgot_?” Drift said incredulously, leaning over him with his optics wide, “It was like the main reason for even going to see him!”

“We had other things we discussed and it slipped my processor ok?” Rodimus said, leaning away and shrugging out of shame.

Drift groaned a sigh, backing off, “Did you at least tell him about Pipes?”

“Yes I—” Rodimus paused, realizing, “Slag, I forgot to give him his name.”

“ _Roddy how?!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody smack me and make me put a little more romance into this fic, the flame is going out lmao I'm so sorry about such a slow burn. I just want these characters to have reasons to love one another. I promise the next chapter will have a lot more actual pining in it 😣


	9. What We Deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron has a conversation with and old friend whilst being the biggest and grayest wallflower.

_ There’s an alarm sounding around Hot Rod. The klaxon blaring in his audials makes his spark sink. _

_ His legs feel numb as he runs as hard as he can up jagged metal steps, twisted from the planet’s core shifting. He’ll be lucky if the whole tunnel doesn’t collapse around him.  _

_ He’s running so fast he barely registers the payload in his arms. The weight of the symbol he carries. He can’t think about it. About what it means to have it with him. _

_ So he runs. _

_ Like Optimus told him to. _

* * *

Arcee and Aileron’s wedding wasn’t made into some big affair. The ceremony was just the bare essentials, plus none of the treaty puffery that came with Rodimus and Megatron’s. Although the vows were nearly a mile long each and there was at least five mechs leaking at the optics by the end. Thankfully it didn’t have as many guests either, just friends and their loved ones, and the celebration afterwards was far less tense.

Well less tense for most of the guests at least.

Megatron sat at an empty table, vacated by everyone who was talking and dancing and drinking to their sparks content.

He felt slightly awkward being there at all. He was sure he was only invited as a courtesy, for being conjunxed to Rodimus of course, but he also felt that refusing to go might have looked bad on him. So, to everyone’s surprise, he showed up even if it meant he would sit by himself while he watched Rodimus dance with his old friends from the Wreckers. For a good portion of said dancing, he was occupied by Drift. But at some point, when Megatron hadn’t noticed, Drift had disappeared and was replaced with several other partners. He danced with Arcee and Aileron at the same time very briefly before dragging someone else to the floor with him. His current partner was his longest by far and Springer didn’t look to be leaving any time soon.

“Still like to mope instead of joining the party?”

Megatron perked up at the sound of a familiar voice.

Impactor took a seat next to him. That cheeky smirk that recalled back so many memories still plastered over his face.

“Do you think they’d want me to?” Megatron asked motioning to the crowd of basically all autobots, “I think I might just kill the party.”

“You might be right. But you glaring daggers at your competition isn’t good for your health.”

Megatron raised a brow at him, a frown pulling at his face, “Competition?”

“You’ve been staring at Rodimus and Springer for the past 20 kliks.” Impactor said smugly.

“So? I’m making sure Rodimus doesn’t purge all over the dance floor. You’ve seen how he drinks.”

“How about telling him to stop then? Or maybe try dancing _with_ him?” Impactor offered.

“What good would that do?” Megatron crossed his arms.

“Well you might accidentally have some fun for one,” Impactor unsubspaced a flask and took a swig from it. “You’d be telling all these other mechs to back off, for another.”

“Why would I want to do that,” Megatron said leaning towards his old friend to keep their conversation quiet, “If one of these mechs wants to be with Rodimus, why should I stop them?”

“Because, and maybe this is just my observation, I don’t think you want them to. And I think you know that your best chance of moving on— of healing, is out there on that dance floor.”

Megatron snarled quietly, “What? Because I’m his conjunx? Because he was forced to marry me?”

“Because he _chose_ to.” Impactor said, emphasizing, “He gave you a second chance— You don’t find someone whose willing to do that for mechs like us every _million_ astrocycles!”

“But he shouldn’t have,” Megatron hissed, “I’m not going to let his choice keep him from being happy.”

Impactor gave him a harsh and judgmental look, “No, but you’re keepin’ you from doin’ the same. You’re telling me that you, Megatron of Tarn, are content to sit on the sidelines? Stagnant, for the rest of time?”

Megatron was silent and he had to keep his gaze fixed to the table to keep if from going back to where he knew Rodimus was, still dancing with Springer.

“It’s what I deserve.” He said finally, “It’s far _better_ than I deserve.”

Impactor sighed, “We all did rotten things during the war. I have my own share of war crimes that keep me up at night. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t _try_ and move on.”

“I _did_ move on, I _was_ happy.” Megatron said, turning his helm to look Impactor in the optic, “And I buried that happiness beneath Vector Sigma.”

“You say that like the universe did it to punish you,” Impactor said, frowning, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then whose was it?” Megatron turned his optics to the dance floor finding Rodimus just to the side, standing with his friends, laughing, “I think the universe has made itself very clear in what it thinks about my happiness.”

There was silence between them for awhile. Impactor took a few more sips from his flask and Megatron tried not to watch Rodimus too closely as he leaned on the big triple-changer for support. The pit in his tanks didn’t do much to lighten his mood though.

“Well, lets sit here and do nothing then, instead of fighting back.” Impactor said, mimicking a similar line Megatron recalled telling him long ago. Back when Megatron had been a very different bot.

He didn’t say anything to that and Impactor stood up shortly thereafter. Wandering off to who knows where. All Megatron could think about was how right he actually was. He’d had thoughts about moving on before but had been too scared to admit them to himself. Now every time Rodimus grabbed someone else's hand, every time he embraced someone, he could feel it gnawing at his chest.

Rodimus was too energetic, and incredibly impulsive, but he was kind and even inspiring at times. Behind his lack of concentration was a brilliant mind that just needed an occasional nudge to get back on track. It hadn’t taken long for Megatron to become fond of him. Just listening to him berate the council when they made the mistake of favoring autobots over decepticons, forgetting that the Prime had an amica who used to be one, had him by his spark in no time. Because unlike all the other autobots, Rodimus seemed to be able to understand both sides of the struggle and Megatron appreciated that to no end.

There was also no denying, Rodimus was incredibly handsome. His colors were all well coordinated, the minimal use of the yellow gold on his hands and chest and shoulder vents were punctuating to his form. But the gold on the crown of his forehelm purposely drew the you to his sharp blue optics. Megatron liked looking at his optics the most. And, despite what some would claim, they weren’t completely blue, they had just the slightest hue of green in them.

Megatron also immensely enjoyed the excitement from the dreariness of everyday that Rodimus brought into his life. He enjoyed listening to him tell his tales of racing with Drift on the Lithium Flats, and even about his time he spent on Earth. Rodimus took pride in ‘educating’ Megatron on all things when it came to organics, and Megatron listened to him. He had a hard time telling when perhaps he might be pulling his leg but he took it in stride if it meant getting to spend a little time not sitting in silence with him. He wished he had more to offer him.

Unfortunately, the bitter truth was that Megatron didn’t deserve him. Rodimus was a light, like a star. He deserved someone who not only could see that but would help him to shine brighter. Megatron couldn’t do that. Even now, sitting here surrounded by his friends, he knew what all of them thought of him. He was still the enemy; the enemy that they had begrudgingly pardoned. None of them thought he cared about Rodimus, only that he went through with the treaty to keep the peace. 

Which, at the time, had been true. He hadn’t expected to become so attached to Rodimus. If he had known, he might have tried harder to stop the arrangement and to keep the red speedster at a greater distance. Keep him safe from Megatron himself. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be sitting across the room, a year later, pining over this bright red fool that stole his spark right out from under him.

Megatron could hear Rodimus’ laugh echoing in the hall. He was clearly drunk, from his too loud voice, to his swaying, it was easy to tell. Megatron should probably have called it a night some time ago and taken him home but he felt like perhaps his friends would try and tell him off. But at this point, when Rodimus is threatening to fall over, Megatron decided it was time to intervene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this out yesterday but I got distracted lol also sorry this one is kind of short. The next chapter was part of it but that one is turning out to be nearly 3k words on it's own and I can't split that one lmao, so look forward to a long chapter 10 :P


	10. On The Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash 'looks out' for Rodimus...

Thunderclash had expected Rodimus and possibly even Megatron to show up to Arcee and Aileron’s wedding. Which is why he showed up late and had intended to only stop by and give his gift before heading out. It would have worked if his friend Riptide hadn’t grabbed him and was talking him up to every single bot they bumped into. Not that he didn’t appreciate his friend’s enthusiasm but he wished he could take the hint that he wasn’t interested in dating at the moment.

“Riptide I really need to go,” Thunderclash said for perhaps the eighth time that evening, “I have more work to do tomorrow.”

“No you don’t, work doesn’t start for another couple days!” Riptide laughed, he was a little drunk by now which was working against Thunderclash as it made him very friendly. And not to mention _clingy_. 

“Stick around, the party’s just getting started!” The tall mech put an arm around his neck and pulled him in another direction.

Thunderclash winced slightly as he tried to pull free, “Really Riptide, I’ll make it up to you but I have to go—”

“Someplace else you’d rather be, _Thunderclash_?”

Thunderclash stopped entirely as Riptide turned them to an unfortunately familiar red speedster. Rodimus stood before him and Primus did he look beautiful. His finish was even glossier than usual, polished to perfection, and his blue optics gleamed brightly in the dim light of the room. Thunderclash had a hard time not looking directly at the biolights on his small waist that glimmered like fire, but couldn’t choose any other place on Rodimus to look at that didn’t feel lecherous. Instead he kept his gaze fixed to those optics of his, aware that the speedster had his hands on his hips and was swaying in place, not seeming to be at a hundred percent despite his outwards appearance.

“Hey Rodimus!” Riptide said brightly and Thunderclash prayed that if Primus had any mercy he would kill him right then and there because he knew what was coming.

“Have you met my pal Thunders?”

Oh no.

Thunderclash put an hand over Riptide’s mouth before he could continue his spiel he had been spewing all night to get him a date.

“We know each other Riptide,” Thunderclash chuckled awkwardly, “We met at work the other day.”

Riptide pulled his hand away from his mouth, “Then Rodimus, can you maybe help me convince this guy to stay more than ten minutes, he needs to let loose for once!”

“Me?” The red speedster asked sounding affronted before he shoved a golden digit at him, “This guy didn’t even _show up to my bonding ceremony_.”

Thunderclash felt his optics go wide and he wanted to leap out of the nearest window. He couldn’t believe Rodimus had noticed. He thought he had been quite sure he wouldn’t notice. Rodimus didn’t even remember his name when they went for fuel only _days_ ago. How did he find out? Thunderclash felt insecure all of a sudden and could almost feel optics on him from the surrounding bots, looking at him expectantly, though it was probably his imagination. Then the speedster suddenly approached him and Thunderclash barely kept himself from taking a step back.

“You owe me, I hope you know that.” Rodimus said ominously, tapping on his autobrand with a digit before cracking a grin, “You owe me a dance that is.” 

Thunderclash would have been a lot more excited at the notion if Rodimus didn’t almost immediately fall over in front of him. He just barely caught the speedster before he lost his balance completely. His frame was hot, almost too hot, to the touch and Thunderclash felt concerned for him. He knew he was ‘Hot Rod’ but was he supposed to be burning up? Thunderclash caught a whiff of strong engex coming from the speedster and his concern only began to rise.

“C’mon Roddy,” Springer was suddenly there, hoisting Rodimus up by his waist, “Back up you get. Thanks for catching him, I lost him back there for a moment!” Springer laughed.

“No problem…” Thunderclash said. He had noticed that Springer had been with Rodimus for some time now. It was hard not to notice when the two of them were the loudest and most rambunctious bots here. He tried to keep his optics from wandering to them. In doing so he guess he lost track of where they were completely and ended up bumping into them.

Thunderclash became aware suddenly that bots were beginning to vacate the immediate area. He realized why when an all too familiar grey mech appeared next to them, nearly scaring Thunderclash out of his plating.

“I believe it’s about time that I took Rodimus home.” Megatron said.

“Whaaa, no! I’m having fun—everybody’s having fun, right Springer?” Rodimus said, looking around at everyone. His pleading optics fell on Thunderclash, “Right _Thunders_?”

“Rodimus, you’re not well.” Megatron said, shaking his head. He reached for him and Springer stepped between the two.

“Roddy still wants to stay, he’s not drinking anymore and he’s surrounded by friends, we’ll make sure he gets home okay.” Springer bargained.

Rodimus nodded his head vigorously at Megatron, “I can get home on my own, trust me.”

Megatron’s red optics narrowed, shooting a glare at Springer, “It’s not you I don’t trust.”

That caught Thunderclash slightly off-guard. Maybe he was reading too much into things, as he was prone to do, but it seemed like Megatron was… Jealous. Did that mean that he did indeed have feelings for Rodimus? If so, then Thunderclash could understand Megatron’s trepidation, him and Springer were obviously drunk. Anybot could tell you what might happen between the two and it wasn’t something a conjunx would want to think about.

Looking between the two large mechs and feeling the tension, Thunderclash cleared his intake, “If it would put your mind at ease, I could accompany Rodimus home as well. To make sure the two of them don’t get into trouble. I haven’t had a drink all night if that is why you are worried.” 

He couldn’t believe the words coming from his own mouth. He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation. But he didn’t want the two bigger mechs getting into a fight, especially since Rodimus was so out of it. The last thing he wanted was this to end up causing Rodimus problems with Megatron later. And, though he couldn’t believe it considering this was the mech who almost killed him all those years ago, he felt bad for Megatron. Seeing the way Rodimus was with Springer had made his own spark ache in ways he couldn’t describe. But at least he could look away and at the end of the night he could go home without any reminders. Megatron would have to wake up with Rodimus tomorrow morning and if Springer was _also_ there to greet him…

Megatron looked at him, seeming exponentially more frustrated, and Thunderclash feared he had misspoken. But the grey mech merely sighed, aggravated, but restrained. He crossed his arms.

“Fine, if anything happens to him,” Red optics pierced Thunderclash, “You’ll be the one I blame.”

Thunderclash swallowed hard, a twinge of fear in his tanks, “And I will take full responsibility.”

Megatron huffed and turned away from them, taking his leave. They watched him go and Thunderclash breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Being around he grey mech always made him more nervous than was perhaps necessary. Years of habit he supposed. He turned to look at Springer and Rodimus, both of them clearly inebriated yet Rodimus was the only one stumbling around. That made him frown, he didn’t want to think Springer was one to take advantage of another mech but he was starting to think maybe keeping an optic on them wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Thanks Thunderclash,” The big triple changer said, clapping a hand on his back in an overly friendly manner, “I had him but it’s always nice having another ‘Bot for backup.”

“Are you two going to be okay?” Thunderclash asked Rodimus, mostly ignoring Springer.

“Psh, yeah, Megs is just a worry-rod!” Rodimus laughed, “ ‘Sides, don’t I get to have a little fun every now and then?” The red speedster then caught optics with someone else he knew and was off again, Springer following close behind.

Thunderclash sighed, knowing he would have to watch them for the rest of the night to make sure they didn’t wander off without him. So much for a quick and quiet evening. He shot a half sparked glare at Riptide who was standing just to the side. His optics were wide and staring over a glass of engex, having watched the interaction go down.

“Well that was… interesting,” Riptide chimed.

“I’m staying now, are you happy?” Thunderclash griped slightly.

“A little, what was that whole thing about not showing up to his bonding ceremony?”

Thunderclash sighed, “I’ll tell you about it later, I’ve got to keep an optic on those two.” With that, he left Riptide’s side in favor of following the two inebriated bots who were chatting it up with the other party goers.

As the end of the night grew quieter, however, Rodimus became louder and it was beginning to bother the other bots. It was only maybe an hour later that Springer came over with Rodimus all but dragging on the floor, having been asked to take him home by more than a few mechs by now. Rodimus wasn’t asleep, just being a deadweight, although he looked to be close to passing out soon enough. Thunderclash helped prop him up as the two began the trek to drop him off, Rodimus whining all the way out the door. 

When Rodimus finally quieted down, fallen asleep and snoring gently, there was silence between Thunderclash and Springer for a good portion of the journey. Thunderclash just didn’t really know what to say to him. And the thoughts swirling in his processor were less than favorable to Springer. 

The triple-changer had been hanging off Rodimus all night, it had been almost painful to watch really. His own sensibilities told him that it was wrong for himself to pursue Rodimus when the red speedster was so recently bonded to Megatron. Springer either didn’t think the same way, or perhaps didn’t care. He wasn’t sure how justified he was in telling Springer to back off, or if Springer was actually being amorous with Rodimus. So he kept quiet instead.

Springer finally broke the silence with a awkward chuckle, “Thanks again by the way, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight with Megatron if that’s what it looked like.”

Thunderclash was again taken aback, “Then what was that all about?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Springer gazed down at Rodimus, a gentle look in his optics, “Roddy didn’t wanna leave and Drift wasn’t there to help him. Probably off with Ratchet, I heard those two are getting together.” Springer said with a wink.

Thunderclash hummed, still suspicious, “Rodimus was pretty far gone though, he probably won’t even remember wanting to stay. You should have just let Megatron take him home.”

Springer had a guilty look on his face now, “I know. But Rodimus wanted to stay and… I just didn’t want Megatron and him to get into an argument… So I figured I’d let him argue me instead.”

There was silence for a moment and Thunderclash couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“Drift might be his amica but I was his best friend first y’know,” Springer admitted quietly, “We grew apart during the war but I never stopped protecting him.”

Thunderclash felt a question on the end of his glossa but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. He asked anyway.

“Were you two…?” The question died on his lips when Springer nodded.

“Briefly. Very brief. A long, long time ago.” Springer sounded sad, “The war was too much for there to be an ‘us’ I guess and we ended it as quickly as it began.”

Thunderclash understood better now. Springer was protecting someone he had loved. Or trying to at least. Thunderclash had a few words against how he was protecting him but they were lost when Rodimus let out a whimper.

“R…rime…?” Rodimus said quietly, his voice barely a whisper, and Thunderclash wasn’t sure if he had heard it correctly.

“Did he always use to drink like this?” Thunderclash asked.

Springer tilted his helm, “He always liked to drink at parties but no, I don’t think so? He’s only a social drinker so I hardly see him drink anywhere else though. For the past year he’s been pretty much like this after every party. Even at his own bonding celebration.” Springer said that last part bitterly.

Thunderclash recalled their lunch together, Rodimus hadn’t seemed very interested in the engex at Swerve’s. Based off that, he guessed that Rodimus was just taking things a little too far when he felt it was socially acceptable. Staying inside the lines but going too deep. Maybe no one else thought anything of his drinking habits, like Springer said ‘it’s only at parties’ but that didn’t mean there wasn’t an underlying problem behind it.

Thunderclash sighed, “You’re very kind to want to help. But I’m sure Megatron had only the best intentions towards taking him home. He’s his conjunx after all.”

Springer let out a soft growl, “And that just automatically means he cares? They didn’t marry for love, they married because they had to.”

Rodimus let out a loud snort and the two of them froze their conversation, waiting to see if he woke. When he didn’t the two sat in silence again, this time much more tense.

Thunderclash tried but couldn’t stop his own feelings bleeding out with his next words, “So you think you’re the one to pass judgement on whether their relationship works?”

Springer spluttered quietly, “What? No! I-I just… I just don’t think…”

Quiet consumed them and Thunderclash could see the conflict on the triple changer’s face.

“Am I right in assuming that the reason you don’t think Megatron cares is because he doesn’t care about him like you do?”

Springer was silent, staring at the ground for a long time. Thunderclash was almost certain he wasn’t going to get a response from him.

“It’s crossed my mind once or twice,” Springer said finally, “That maybe we could make things work now… I guess I was just being selfish.”

Now it was Thunderclash’s turn to feel guilty. Rodimus certainly deserved the devotion that Springer showed. But, Thunderclash also felt that he also deserved a chance to be happy with his bonded. To find love with the mech he would be with for the rest of his functioning. Maybe Thunderclash was just too much of a romantic. He mulled over his next words but Springer beat him to it.

“Do you really think he’s better off with Megatron though?” Springer asked.

Thunderclash met his optics, “Don’t you think that they deserve the chance to try?” 

Springer didn’t answer his question but he nodded in understanding.

Thunderclash forced a half smile, “You’re a good friend, Springer. I’d be extremely grateful to have a friend like you watching my back, I’m sure Rodimus feels the same way. And maybe, somewhere down the line, you two will be together. But for right now, my advice is to let them be. Don’t try to put yourself between him and Megatron, you may only end up hurting him or yourself.”

Springer’s optics looked at Rodimus, who just sagged between them, a smile pulling his lips, “You’re right. But don’t ask me to stop protecting him, he’s a bolt brain, but he’s our bolt brain. We’ve gotta look after each other, especially now, with the whole…” Springer stopped.

“Springer?” Thunderclash asked, confused.

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” He stopped walking and looked up at the nearby building, “Well, here we are. Should we wake him now or when we get up there?”

“Do you know what apartment he’s in?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s wait.” Thunderclash followed Springer’s lead through the building, up to the ninth floor, apartment number 113. They stopped outside and finally put Rodimus back on his pedes properly, gently shaking him awake.

“C’mon Roddy. Gotta open up the door.” Springer said, clapping him on his cheek a few times too.

“Nnnnnngh, Springer?” Rodimus groaned, slapping the hand away. His optics blinked wearily, though they were still bright with overcharge. His cavalier attitude was gone, replaced with a grumpy sleepiness.

“Yeah, come on. Time to put in your code so you can get to berth.”

Rodimus didn’t say anything, he instead rather obediently went to the door, maybe because of the promise of recharge. He mashed in a code, that Thunderclash purposefully looked away from, and the door opened. A brief fear came over Thunderclash, thinking perhaps Megatron might have waited up for them. It was gone when Rodimus stepped through the threshold and there was no one there. Rodimus swayed in place before tilting to walk to the left. Springer took a step into the apartment and Thunderclash worried for a split second what he was going to do.

“Roddy your room is that way.” Springer said gently, pointing to the right.

“Oh right, pffft!” Rodimus laughed, changing his course and walking to his room down the right hall this time.

Thunderclash took in the sight of the apartment for a moment. It had a large living area with an attached kitchen, a widescreen in the corner and a large plush sofa in front of it. The living area also had a large window that stretched across it’s entirety, with a beautiful view of Iacon’s downtown. The light from which lit the interior dimly. The only table in the room had tons of papers and data pads strewn about. A half eaten bag of candies sat atop them, and Thunderclash smiled a little to himself. It was probably Rodimus’ workspace away from the office. To the left and right were hallways that had closed doors where he assumed were the berth rooms. If Rodimus was down the right then that logically meant that Megatron’s room was on the left. That thought sent a strange chill down Thunderclash’s spinal strut.

Thunderclash recognized this place now. This was one of the first renovated buildings. It had a lot of significance to Iacon, and always had shown hospitality to the Primes who lived there. Which Thunderclash assumed was why the two had opted to stay here. But looking at it now, it didn’t seem suited to Rodimus. Everything was too big, it could have accommodated Thunderclash or Springer more easily. Which led to the sad realization that a lot of the renovated buildings in Iacon proper had happened during the ceasefire, before the Quintesson threat showed itself for what it really was. So, in all likelihood, this apartment wasn’t even made with the smaller Prime in mind. 

It had been meant for Optimus.

“Thanks for all your help again,” Springer’s voice pulled him from his reverie and he looked back at him as the door to the apartment slid shut and locked, “I hope we didn’t derail your night too much.”

Thunderclash smiled, “Nothing’s too much for a couple of friends.” He clapped a hand on Springer’s shoulder, “And I’m sorry if I asked you too many personal questions tonight, I know it’s not really my place to be questioning your motivations.”

“It’s all right,” Springer said, “You were looking out for Roddy and I appreciate that.”

Thunderclash felt his tanks turn and his smile fell a little, “Just trying to be helpful.”

“ ‘Cause, you’re Thunderclash, the best of us Autobots right?” Springer said with a slightly goofy grin.

Thunderclash chuckled lightly as the two entered the elevator to go back down.

“That is what they say about me.” Thunderclash said, “For better or worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness this was a long one. I really couldn't split it though because Thunderclash's thought process flows the whole chapter. We're getting into the good stuff now, sorry about the boring set up stuff. I needed to establish places and people lol but we should be getting some good feels in the next few chapters. ;)


	11. Romancing the Gladiator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roddy tries to bridge the gap with Megs with romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't respond to comments last week. I didn't have the spoons to respond and I was very much trying not to rant about spoilers lol; I still have so much left to go with this fic so this chapter is also very long. Enjoy :)

Rodimus woke with yet another splitting processor ache in the morning. Luckily his tanks faired better than the last time he drank so much and he didn’t have to rush to the shower to purge. His optics blinked open to the bright light of afternoon sun shining in through his window and he immediately pulled the covers over his helm with a groan. He had woken up very late so when he finally dragged himself from the berth and into the living room Megatron wasn’t there, probably having already retreated back to his desk in his own room.

He probably should have been more happy about that since he wouldn’t have to see the righteous condemnation on his face but he was a little sad at his absence. Rodimus liked his company, even when he was hungover. If they got over their perpetual small talk then the two of them usually had nice conversations over their morning energon.

This morning, or afternoon rather, Rodimus was just going to cut his losses and have his energon in his room. As he was now remembering some of the night’s events. Namely, that Megatron had tried to take him home but Springer hadn’t let him. That was probably going to bite him in the aft sooner or later, and he would much rather it be later.

Everything was still really fuzzy for Rodimus, everything after that last shot with the Wreckers at least. Though he was starting to recall getting home but that’s probably because he was sobering up when Springer woke him to open the door.

Rodimus winced as he remembered almost walking to Megatron’s room instead of his own. His thought process being that Megatron would be much warmer than his cold berth. That could have been really embarrassing.

Rodimus sipped his energon and thought hard for a moment. Would it really have been such a bad thing though? Maybe it would do them some good to have a little embarrassment between the two of them. Maybe drunk Rodimus had been onto something and he just needed to march into that room and demand some attention from the silver mech. Perhaps that’s just what they needed to start getting over… whatever it was between them.

Then again, maybe Megs would have just thrown his aft back out into the living room without so much as a grumble.

He sighed and pulled out his personal data pad to check his messages while he finished his energon. He was surprised to find 15 unread messages, strange considering barely anyone besides Drift messaged him. He opened the message app and saw that 13 of them were from Drift and he snorted a little. But the other two were from two other people, one from late last night caught his attention.

_Megatron_

_::Are you ok still? Call if you need me.::_

Rodimus stared at the message. It must have been sent after Megatron left Rodimus with Springer. He was surprised that the silver mech had even sent him a message after he ditched him like that. But perhaps maybe that’s just because Rodimus was petty deep down and he probably wouldn’t have done the same.

Still, it was almost… Sweet of him.

Rodimus shook himself and moved on to the next message.

_Springee Boi_

_::Hey Roddy, did you sleep well? I hope you had fun, I stuck my neck out  
for you! >:O Well me and Mr. Greatest Autobot of All Time—_

Rodimus started, looking up from the rest of the message to stare at the wall in horror. That’s right! Thunderclash had been there last night! He had helped Springer walk him home, he remembered seeing him when he turned away from Megatron’s room to go back to his own. That mech had seen him making a fool of himself for who knows _how long_ before that too!

Rodimus let out a groan, collapsing against his pillows and banging his helm a little on the wall behind him. He let the embarrassment wash over him for a moment before reading the rest of the message.

_—how did you two meet btw? I thought you hated him? Anyways, Bee is leaving  
in a couple days and I wanted to ask if we were going to be doing any  
kind of farewell party? Get back to me when your hangover clears up lol::_

Well at least Springer didn’t mention anything in particular that would cause him more embarrassment. But this also means that Thunderclash and himself probably had a conversation while he was drunk and he couldn’t remember what it was… Or at least not all of it. He could vaguely remember being very close to that big dumb, _obnoxiously bright_ , chest decal. Why had it been so close? He also remembered seeing the floor pretty up close too so maybe it was just him being a dumbaft.

_Great_.

Rodimus moved onto the messages Drift sent, starting from the top and seeing a descent into madness. The first half were from late last night.

_Roddy’s #1 Amica_

_::Hey I left with Ratchet, sorry about ditching you haha::_

_::We went out for fuel, my spark feels like it’s going to burst out of  
my chest, help!::_

_::!!!::_

_::He invited me back to his place Roddy!!!::_

_::Are you ignoring me?::_

_::I’ll make up for ditching you I promise.::_

_::Roddy please just let me know you’re ok?::_

The next half were earlier that morning when Rodimus had been sleeping.

_::Are you still alive?::_

_::Hey::_

_::Hey::_

_::I heard you got really drunk last night will you please call me.::_

_::Rodimus Prime you pick up your comm line right now or else.::_

_::That’s it I’m coming over there and if you’re not already dead  
then you will be after I beat your aft::_

Rodimus looked at the time and realize that one had been sent over two hours ago. And since his aft was still intact that begged the question; what happened to Drift? He quickly typed up a reply:

::Hey sorry about that, yeah I got a little buzzed and ended up sleeping through all your messages this morning::

Rodimus didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_::I know, I stopped by your place and Megatron told me  
what happened. I figured I’d let you sleep it off for now.::_

Rodimus cringed.

::I’m really sorry! But I mean… you did ditch me lol::

:: _-____-_ ::

::Sorry q.q::

_::I forgive you, I’m still gonna kick your aft though for getting so  
drunk again. I heard that you needed an escort to get home.::_

::Yeah but to be fair, I do feel ashamed about that. So how did it go with Ratchet last night? :0 ::

_::You’re lucky you have such good friends, anything could  
have happened to you.::_

::I know! But hey no changing the subject! I wanna know what happened! Did you two go all the way or not?::

_::I’ll tell you later.::_

::What?! No fair!::

_::Reply to your messages next time.::_

::I was recharging!::

_::Too bad then::_

Rodimus tossed the data pad aside, feeling aggravated, and stared up at the ceiling.

A strange feeling of loneliness crept over him. Like he was the only bot in the world all of a sudden. He didn’t like that feeling. He sat up, ignoring the way his head swam a little, and made his way to Megatron’s room instead. Hoping to mitigate the horrible feeling weighing on him even if it meant having to hear Megatron tear him a new one. He opened the door without knocking, as he was used to doing, and found Megatron sitting at his desk in the corner of the room. It was his usual spot even on days off, just typing away at his computer and reading the news.

Megatron looked up at him when he entered with a flick of his optics, but didn’t take his focus off whatever task he had set his mind to currently. He continued to type something for a few moments, meanwhile Rodimus made himself comfortable on the edge of his berth. The silver mech then leaned back to regard Rodimus finally.

“Finally awake huh,” Megatron drawled, “I was worried I was going to have to call Ratchet.”

“Ha, _ha_ ,” Rodimus fake laughed, “Like he’d even answer your call.”

“If you keep drinking like that, you better hope he answers.” Megatron narrowed his optics.

Rodimus bit his lip a little as the tension rose, “Yeah, about that… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t realize I had gone too far. Me and Springer, we were just having fun.”

“I’m quite aware of that.” Megatron huffed, looking away from Rodimus for a moment.

“He didn’t mean to get in your face last night.” He said, defensive of his friend, “He was just looking out for me, he does that a lot.”

“Good for him.” Megatron said blandly.

Rodimus twitched slightly at that, “Is that a problem?”

There was another tense pause before Megatron looked at him with guarded optics.

“No, of course not.” He replied simply enough.

Rodimus didn’t believe him for some reason, maybe it was his posture, or maybe it was that he wasn’t looking directly at Rodimus when he said it. Either way, he could tell Megatron didn’t have any real sentiment behind that statement, despite his drastic tone change. Who was he trying to fool? Why?

“Drift came by to see you this morning, he seemed intending to uh, how did he put it— ‘beat your aft senseless’ was what I think he said.” Megatron changed the subject abruptly.

“Yeah I saw his messages. I’m surprised you didn’t let him.” Rodimus prodded.

“I thought about it,” Megatron chuckled, “But I prefer you in one piece.”

“Eh, I could have taken him if he tried.” Rodimus said with false bravado but enjoying this new tangent as oppose to the earlier tension.

“Sure, you looked so imposing while snoring into your pillows.” Megatron smirked.

“Hey, I do not _snore_.”

“Yes you do,” Megatron said looking down at his data pad again with a smile, “It’s cute.”

Rodimus reeled for a moment, blinking his optics rapidly, “Excuse me? _Cute_?”

Megatron looked up, his expression changing to one that perhaps had let something slip unintentionally. An irresistible smile curled Rodimus lips as unrestrained glee poured out of him. Megatron’s expression neutralized almost immediately but there was no going back now. Rodimus stood and walked over to the desk and leaned on it ever so casually.

“You think I’m… cute?” Rodimus said with a coy smile that was more of a downright smirk but he couldn’t really help that.

Megatron sighed, “This is going to turn into another ‘hot solvent’ thing isn’t it?”

“You’re the one who said I had a hot bod.” Rodimus said crossing his arms, his smile actually hurting his cheeks now.

“I said ‘your frame _runs hot’_ ,” Megatron said, sounding ever more exasperated, “So you shouldn’t need all that hot solvent .”

“C’mon Megs, just admit it.” Rodimus said, leaning over him now.

“Admit what?” Megatron crossed his arms and leaned away, “That you’re ridiculous?”

Rodimus let his smile fall a bit as he quirked a brow ridge at him and narrowed his optics, “Megatron there’s no need to play hard to get, we should be past this phase by now.”

“I’m sorry I must have missed a memo, what phase should we be on?” Megatron said, “What page of this nonexistent book you’ve read about relationships did I miss?”

Rodimus recoiled in anger and held his hands up, “You stubborn old mech—trying to get anywhere with you is completely useless!”

Megatron uncrossed his arms, “Wait, was that really how you were going to ask me to bond with you? Romance is truly dead then I take it.”

Rodimus blanched, feeling like his processor was going in circles. Why was Megatron acting this way. It was like he really did want nothing to do with Rodimus. But their conversation leading up to this suggested the _opposite_. While not knowing what else to do but wanting to get through to Megatron, Rodimus saw only one option.

He stood from where he sat on the desk, “You know what, fine, _fine_! If it’s romance you want then—” Rodimus shouted, storming from the room, throwing over his shoulder, “I’ll romance your damn aft off!”

* * *

Megatron groaned to himself after Rodimus left the room.

What was wrong with him? Couldn’t he just play along with Rodimus’ advances? He had gotten so wrapped up in pushing him away recently that he forgot he also had a duty to uphold. For the treaty that said they had to bond if for nothing else. 

He sighed to himself. No, he also owed it to Rodimus to at least be honest with him. He’d never told him about his relationship with Optimus. Everyone had assumed that they had been close but the two had been very careful that no one knew just how close. In fear that bots might get the wrong impression about their intentions. He had been waiting for the right time to tell Rodimus but it never seemed to come. Maybe it never would.

Megatron bit the inside of his cheek and decided that, if Rodimus would take his apology tonight, he would also tell him the truth about his fears and about Optimus. And he prayed silently that the speedster would understand.

Megatron worked slowly, waiting for the speedster to return and ‘romance his aft off’ like he said he would. But when he didn’t Megatron simply sighed and stood, going out into the living room for his evening energon. He froze the moment he stepped out into hall and gazed out into the now dimly lit room, lit by _candles_ of all things. A sweet smell assaulted his senses and he crept into the living room to see Rodimus throwing small heart shaped energon goodies into the oven. Megatron couldn’t help but raise a brow and clear his intake.

“There you are!” Rodimus turned and put his hands on his hips, “I thought you were going to hide in there forever and I would have to come get your aft.” The red speedster came over and, not so gently grabbed his arm and guided him to the couch where he pushed him to sit down. Rodimus ran to the counter and grabbed several items; glasses, a bottle of engex, a data pad, and a remote. He came over and poured the engex first, shoving a glass into Megatron’s hand before jabbing the remote and turning on low and sultry music. 

Megatron was about to try to tell him that this wasn’t really necessary, when the speedster _climbed into his lap_ and reclined across it, his own glass of engex in hand and he propped up the data pad.

“I wasn’t sure what fit the mood so I downloaded a few cards.”

Megatron looked at the data pad, which had almost 50 thumbnails of various greeting cards. Rodimus picked the first one which read, 

“To my loving Conjunx…”

“Nah that one’s too sappy,” Rodimus flicked to the next one which was a baby turbofox hanging on a branch that said ‘Hang in there’.

“That one’s not right either,” Rodimus again flicked to the next one which had a suggestive image of a codpiece and the glyphs, ‘Put your hands on me, sweetspark.’

“Too upfront?” Rodimus smirked before flicking to another one, almost as raunchy as the last.

“Ok, ok, you’ve made your point.” Megatron said, taking the data pad from him before he could torture him with the rest of his inappropriate imagery. He set both the data pad and his engex on the table in front of them. Rodimus also set down his glass and looked at him expectantly, arms crossed. Unsure of what to do with his hands he let one come to rest on the speedster’s back, feeling the plating shift irritatedly under his touch.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier, Rodimus. The reason why I acted that way is because I have been scared to make the leap to something more… _physical_ in our relationship.” Megatron explained, feeling uncomfortable under the speedster’s gaze and unable to look him in the optic as he continued, “It’s a big change to make and I have heard that bonding when uncomfortable can make the experience… painful.”

He ventured a glance at Rodimus and found soft optics looking at him. Gentle, questioning, but not judging him.

Rodimus then tilted his helm at him, “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Megatron let himself sag a little, “I guess I thought maybe if I could put it off longer… we would get there eventually.”

“That’s kind of hard to do if you’re going to be an aft about it.” Rodimus pointed out.

Megatron nodded solemnly, “I know, I know…” He took a deep breath as he hesitated, knowing the next part he should tell him but not wanting to.

“Well.” Rodimus began, “We don’t have to necessarily bond the first time we… We could just…”

A yellow hand found Megatron’s cheek and guided his face towards Rodimus’, his intent clear but stopping when he got close enough that Megatron could feel his vents. His processor stalling, Megatron closed his optics and pressed forward blindly. 

The kiss was slow and messy, and he bumped their noses together a few times. Rodimus didn’t seem to mind, if the smile he felt on the speedster’s lips was anything to go by. Their kiss at the ceremony had been chaste and almost not even on the mouth. But Rodimus, like in all things, was quick to speed things up by deepening the kiss with flicks of his glossa. Megatron let Rodimus take the lead, simply savoring the taste of smoke and embers and feeling of his lips against his own.

He grew aware of the feeling of hot hands on his plating and he held back little moan of appreciation at the way Rodimus curled his finger tips between the seems of his armor. He let his arms encircle the speedster now, letting a hand wander to the small of his back and another to tickle at the biolights on his waist. He was holding him in place more than anything as Rodimus squirmed to get even closer, clearly intent on trying to move his legs to straddle him. But Megatron didn’t want him to, not yet. Not now…

He felt a sudden twinge of pain in his helm. A feeling of dread and guilt washed over him, like a dark reminder of something he had forgotten. He pulled away from the kiss and held Rodimus away from him, looking straight at the floor while he tried to recompose himself.

“Megatron…?” He heard Rodimus say, sounding far away from him despite being in his arms.

His optics closed and for a moment he wasn’t in their living room anymore. He was back in his war tent, holding the shoulders of a very different bot in his hands. Red plating of a different hue, marred by scuffs from a day’s battle, under his fingertips. Blue optics were his whole world in that moment, he never wanted to look at anything else for the rest of his life. He remembered the scene so vividly that he shook slightly, mouthing the words he had said. The promise that he had made.

“Are you okay?” Rodimus’ voice brought him back to the present.

Megatron felt a chill run down his spinal strut and he turned his optics to the red speedster. He was about to apologize for his actions when he suddenly heard the convector in the kitchen sound it’s alarm. 

Rodimus leapt up, “Hold that thought!” He dove for his mitts to get his treats out of the oven.

Megatron watched him, trying to calm his spark that he found to be racing. He had no idea where that vision suddenly came from. He hadn’t thought about things like that for a very long time. Even when tried to remember Optimus his memories were never that vivid or distinct. And it didn’t make any sense that those memories should suddenly be resurfacing now. He’d thought he had moved on from all that, he’d survived the trauma and the scars had healed. They were still painful, sure, but he thought that meant he wouldn’t be haunted by the past that way anymore.

“Okay, now where were we?” Rodimus said, thankfully taking his seat beside Megatron this time. He looked at him with big optics, “You okay?”

Megatron wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Rodimus about Optimus anymore. Or that kissing him reminded him of a painful memory, that probably wouldn’t go over very well.

“Yeah, I just… got a splitting helm ache all of a sudden.” Megatron lied, “And while I very much appreciate the effort, I think I’m going to have to call it a night.”

There was no hiding the disappointment on Rodimus’ face, his lip plates tugged into a deep frown. Megatron didn’t like disappointing him but he couldn’t see this night progressing well after… that. But he felt the need to do something for him, so he wrapped an arm around the speedster’s waist and hugged him close.

“Thank you for trying though,” Megatron said gently, “We’ll get there, I promise.”

“If you say so.” Rodimus said, still sounding a little disappointed, but relaxing into the embrace, “I didn’t realize you were so sappy.”

“Says the mech with heart shaped energon goodies on the counter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I don't have much to say about this chapter haha


	12. Something There That Wasn’t There Before Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Thunderclash discuss their project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a lot of exposition in this chapter and it turned out very long so I cut it up for easier digestion. I might post up the rest later this week so keep an eye out for it.

Rodimus stood in front of the door to Thunderclash’s office.

This time he was there at the behest of a memo he’d received after his refuel break. Something about Thunderclash wanting to ask him a few things, he wasn’t really sure what. He had gotten straight up and marched himself down to the big mech’s office, all too glad to have something to do besides more paperwork again. He suddenly became nervous however, when he remembered that the last conversation that they had was when he was drunk out of his processor.

Try as he might he still couldn’t recall what they had been talking about when Megatron and Springer had shown up. He knew from what Springer said that they had been talking for a couple minutes before he came over to drag Rodimus back to his pedes, having apparently fallen over in front of Thunderclash. As if being drunk wasn’t enough, he’d also looked like a fool too.

So here he stood. Staring at the door instead of knocking and pulling at his digits nervously. What if he accidentally said something to insult him? What If Thunderclash didn’t want to work with him anymore? He’d gotten so excited at the prospect of seeing the colonies, getting off of Cybertron even for a short while. Now it might all be pulled out from under him.

Rodimus grit his dentae and took a deep breath, releasing it and the rest of the nerves from his frame. Then he knocked.

“Please come in.” He heard the all too polite timbre of Thunderclash’s voice from the other side of the door.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and took in the sight of the big mech behind his desk which was slightly too small for him. Stacks of data pads were neatly organized on the corners of said desk, in a manner that Ultra Magnus would undoubtably appreciate. A ring of light poured in from the afternoon sun behind him, striking his colors in amber hues.  Thunderclash looked up and as nervous as he had been, it all seemed to fade away the moment he was hit with the mech’s bright smile.

“Ah, Rodimus, good to see you!” The big mech grinned and motioned him forward, “I trust you’re here because you got my memo?”

“Yeah you wanted to ask me something, right?” Rodimus stood at the edge of the big desk for a moment before taking a seat across from the big mech. He was still slightly on edge but the fact that Thunderclash wasn’t jumping into a tirade about his actions at the wedding was reassuring.

“Yes, a few things actually, I thought we should probably discuss how involved you want to be with this little project of mine?” Thunderclash asked, pulling out a light pen for his data pad.

“Uh,” Rodimus blanked for a moment, “I mean, how involved do you _need_ me to be?” 

“There is a lot to be done and so far it’s been only myself and a few colonists who we picked up during the war who want to find a ship back home.” Thunderclash said, gesturing with his hands, “We still need things ranging from finding funding and a crew, to what kind of oil reserves we use on the ship.”

“Oh! That reminds me, I forgot to give you the name of that bot we talked about the other day; his name is Pipes, Pipes of Helex.” Rodimus laughed nervously, “ I don’t normally forget things like that but I wasn’t really on my game that day.”

“O-Oh,” Thunderclash replied but there was something off about his tone.

“What?” Rodimus arched a brow at him.

“It’s nothing. Would you be willing to find other crew members? I bet you’d have a knack for knowing the kind of mechs needed for this sort of thing.” Thunderclash said, changing the subject a little too quickly but Rodimus decided not to comment on it.

“Yeah, I could do that, how many would we need? Or rather, how many can we afford?” Rodimus rest his arms on the desk and leaned forward.

“Need? Roughly 100, I’d say. Afford? As of right now; none, “ Thunderclash smiled sheepishly, “I have a few estimations of the costs and everyone I’ve shown them to has turned down the project because they said it wasn’t worth it.”

“Wow, I wouldn’t think anyone would say no to you.”

“Why is that?”

Rodimus realized he’d said something a little presumptuous, “Uhhh, I mean you’re a famous Captain, aren’t you? I just assumed other mechs would have more faith in you.”

“Faith, yes, but none of them are willing to shell out money to take a few colonists home just by will of faith.” Thunderclash said with a shake of his helm.

“Hm.” Rodimus looked down and thought for a moment, “I might actually know a few bots I could ask, maybe even a senator to two, that could make some donations.”

Thunderclash brightened, “That would be fantastic, I’ll send you the numbers and the models of ships I was looking to salvage.”

“Salvage?”

“Yes, unfortunately many of the cruiser class ships are being terminated, now that the war is over and so many of them have heavily integrated weapons systems. They’re being parted out to make new models for more commercial usage.” Thunderclash explained, “But if I can get enough in time to salvage one, we should have something we can explore deep space without worrying too much about any possible hostiles.”

“Do you really think you might need it?” Rodimus asked, not so much because he was worried but because it seemed strange, after being away from violence for so long, to suddenly need it as an option.

“I hope not but luck favors the prepared. No adventure is found without it’s own dangers,” Thunderclash said jotting down a few things on his data pad, “And we might have been our own enemy for so long that we may have overlooked other species that hold a grudge. Megatron did try and subjugate a few of them in the early years of the war.”

Rodimus felt his energon run cold, stiffening in his seat. 

He sometimes forgot about all of that. The treaty had given amnesty for all past actions, save for the especially heinous ones that had been inflicted by groups outside of Megatron’s direct control. Such as the Decepticon Justice Division, who had gone rogue in delivering ‘justice’ for the decepticon cause; and then there was just about _everything_ Overlord did. Rodimus knew Megatron had changed, he was definitely a far cry from the intimidating warlord he used to be these days. He also knew that he blamed himself for everything, he’d heard Megatron talk about it from the other room a few times when Soundwave visited. Megatron knew the blood on his hands was as much on the autobot’s and the functionist’s hands at this point, but overcoming the past wasn’t as easy as every one pretended it to be. Rodimus knew that feeling all too well.

The treaty couldn’t erase the fact that Megatron had done some awful things, he had been very intolerant of organics long ago. And a lot of them still remember, thus leading to a part of the treaty that had been a sour point for Megatron. He was forgiven for past transgressions by his own people as long as he remained a helpful part of society, hence his new job, but the other galactic powers had deemed him too dangerous. So he was confined to Cybertron for the rest of his days. He could only leave the planet to visit Cybertronian territories nearby, like Luna 2, but other than that, if he went as far as the edge of the solar system he would be hunted down and killed.

“I’m sorry that was rude of me wasn’t it?”

Rodimus looked up at Thunderclash who had a mournful look in his optics all of sudden.

“I didn’t mean to be insulting to your conjunx.” Thunderclash apologized, “I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“It’s fine,” Rodimus said, clearing his intake a little, “You aren’t entirely wrong, even Megatron knows that, I just kind of… forgot about it.”

Thunderclash nodded solemnly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“You’re fine Thunders, I asked and you answered, it’s no big deal.”

Thunderclash hummed to himself, “You know what, let’s come back to this later and go do something else, something fun to take our processors off of all this bleakness.”

Rodimus raised a brow at him, “Don’t you have work to be getting done?”

“I do but I could use a _break_ , how about you?” Thunderclash grinned at him.

Rodimus wasn’t sure how to respond except to smile, “How good are you at building castles?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is kind of short, even for my usual short chapters. But The next part is almost double the length and I needed to let some of the exposition breathe lol. Look for the next part on Thursday or Friday (maybe)


	13. Something There That Wasn’t There Before Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus gets a little personal with Thunderclash.

“Aaaaand—Ta-da!” Rodimus stepped back from his new monument, or rather Thunderclash stepped back, as Rodimus was standing on his shoulders so that he could plop the last chair at the top of their ‘castle’ of chairs that they had spent the past half hour building in the court lounge. With Thunderclash’s help, they’d managed to make it the tallest structure he’d built so far and they actually had run out of chairs. A fact that made his spark swell a little with pride.

“A new work of art.” Thunderclash said, sounding amused.

“Indeed, maybe we should sell it to a museum.” Rodimus joked.

“It could help us get the money we need for a spaceship.” Thunderclash said, sounding utterly serious.

Rodimus barked a laugh and wobbled a little, “Uh oh, hope you can think fast!” Rodimus said, jumping off of his shoulders before he lost his balance completely.

And, just as he thought he would, Thunderclash caught him with ease. Though he did look quite flustered by the sudden action, holding Rodimus gingerly under the legs and back, his face plate darkened considerably around his optics.

“You have great reflexes!” Rodimus said, patting his chest plate as Thunderclash stared at him.

Thunderclash looked like he was perhaps about to say something but there was a sudden pounding on the locked door to the lounge and Rodimus sprang from the hold Thunderclash had him in and pulled him out the door to the kitchen and down a couple service hallways, looking carefully to make sure no one saw them. He then got an idea and he ran towards the staircase to the roof, motioning for the big mech to follow. Which he did, surprisingly enough, once again with no questions asked. And when they got to the top, the two of them venting hard and bowed over from the exhilaration, Rodimus grinned at him.

“Whew, that was a close one,” He said, “I thought they had us for sure. You’re a lot quicker than you look.”

“I’m really not, you’re just very good at not getting caught.” Thunderclash returned his grin, “I haven’t had that much excitement in ages.”

“Yeah, how does it feel?” Rodimus said, standing upright and stretching his arms up above his helm in the open air, feeling the warm sun on his plating. It was still quite warm out, despite the sun setting behind them.

“It felt good,” Thunderclash drew himself up to his full height, making Rodimus feel very small once again, “Felt like my academy days before the war.”

Looking at the smile on the colorful mech’s face, Rodimus thought he might have looked much older than he did only minutes ago. The lines and grooves in his face more pronounced as the wistful smile tugged at his tired lip plates and met with his deep magenta optics. He looked nostalgic, like he was remembering a fond memory. Rodimus wondered what it could be, that brought such a look to his handsome face.

Rodimus startled himself from his own thoughts. Had he really just thought Thunderclash was handsome? Not that he wasn’t—he _was_ — but Rodimus had no right to be thinking it!

“How did you know about this place?”

Rodimus was again startled from his own thoughts but this time by Thunderclash who was luckily too busy looking around to notice.

“I used to come up here to hide from Prowl. He got too close to finding it so I haven’t been up here in a while to make sure he doesn’t, it’s too good to give up am I right?” Rodimus said, maybe a little too quickly but he couldn’t calm his words.

“It’s beautiful.” Thunderclash looked out to rest of the sun kissed city. Some of the buildings still lay in ruins but most of the industrial and commercial districts were back up and running now, and in the late afternoon sun, Iacon was almost picturesque once more.

“Yeah,” Rodimus said, aware that while Thunderclash might have been looking at the city, Rodimus wasn’t.

He blinked his thoughts away and took a seat on the ground, “I used to come up here and stare at the sky.” He admitted quietly looking up to the evening sky, filled with a multitude of orange and blues from the fading sun.

Thunderclash turned and came over to sit beside him. He could feel the tickle of the colorful mech’s EM field on the edge of his own, content and curious. It made Rodimus smile.

“I liked to imagine that sky isn’t over Iacon… That I’m somewhere else. A far and distant place that no one has heard of before. Someplace where no one knows my name.” 

He wasn’t sure why he was telling Thunderclash this. Maybe it’s because he needed to tell someone, after being unable to for so long and having no one to understand how he felt. Even Drift would tell him to get his head out of the clouds these days. But he weirdly trusted Thunderclash, he knew somehow that he would understand how he felt and he wouldn’t judge him for it.

“I know what you mean.” Thunderclash said quietly.

Rodimus brought his gaze down from the sky to stare at Thunderclash, a little surprised by his response.

“I felt the same way, when I was at the academy, all I wanted to do was live among the stars.” Thunderclash said, a smile on his lips, “It was the reason I wanted to become a captain at all. Under the functionists, there were very few ways to actually live that dream besides joining the military. But now, we have so many options, so many new avenues to explore.”

Thunderclash put a hand on Rodimus’ shoulder, “It’s clear that you have a passion for this and I don’t think you should give up on it. In fact, I feel that you belong on my project even more now.”

“Thanks,” Rodimus smiled at him, but a doubt plagued his mind, “What if the council decides to not let me leave though?”

“Would you let that stop you?”

Rodimus paused, feeling surprised by that question. He wasn’t sure how to answer, especially with that giant hand on his shoulder taking up a good third of his processing power. When he really thought about it, the council didn’t have control over him. He wasn’t their slave, he didn’t owe them anything. If they used him being a prime against him, he would give up the matrix in a spark beat if it meant that he got to explore space even for a short time. It was just like what Megatron had been telling him all along, he needed to stop being afraid of what the council would do.

“No,” Rodimus responded finally, “They’d have to magnetize me to the planet to get me to stay.” Rodimus grinned.

“My thoughts exactly,” Thunderclash stood and offered him a hand up, “Shall we go plan out our next adventure?”

Rodimus took his hand and was pulled to his pedes, “Absolutely, by the way, you should know I’m really not good with drawing up documents though. And Ultra Magnus has said that my work ethic ‘leaves something to be desired’, just so you know what you’re getting into by working with me.”

“In that case, I’ll deal with documentation, you just worry about getting us some money to work with and a crew.” Thunderclash laughed, “And I’m not worried about your work ethic, you remind me of myself; when you want something, you’re willing to put in the effort.”

“Yeah but when you don’t, do you run around in circles and hide in other mech’s offices?” Rodimus joked.

“Not that I’m willing to admit.”

Rodimus laughed, the thought of Thunderclash being anything like himself when he was bored was too ridiculous to even entertain. With that, the two made their way back down to the big mech’s office. Rodimus again remembered the mystery conversation the two of them had at the wedding the other night. His curiosity getting the better of himself, he decided he couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Also I wanted to apologize for uh, anything I might have said to you at Arcee and Aileron’s bonding celebration. I heard we had a conversation but I cannot remember for the life of me what it was about.”

Rodimus clocked a look on Thunderclash’s face. So he _had_ said something. He swallowed dryly as he waited for the humiliation to come. Thunderclash’s stance changed from casual to awkward and he could feel his own dread climbing.

Thunderclash cleared his intake, “You didn’t say anything… bad. But you did mention something I thought was _odd_.”

Oh no, here it comes. Rodimus braced himself for the rejection, the awkward anger or maybe even disgust.

“You were mad that I didn’t show up to your own bonding celebration.” Thunderclash said, sounding only confused, thankfully.

Rodimus felt his optics bulge out of his head nonetheless, “Oh Primus.” He swore under his breath, staring forward with an intensity.

“I just found it odd that you noticed my absence despite not knowing my name when we met.”

He flinched. Now he was really in it. Of course drunk Rodimus had gone and ran his mouth. Drunk Rodimus knows exactly what _not_ to say at all times. Now he had to think quickly and maybe come up with a reason like—like—

“W-Well you know uh,” Rodimus thought back to their first meeting and he sighed, not wanting to dig a deeper hole than he was already in, “The truth is, I didn’t _not_ know who you were when we first talked last week. I just acted that way because I’m… petty and I didn’t really like you.”

“Oh.”

“I mean I like you now,” Rodimus said quickly, cringing at his own words, “I mean uh, you’re a nice guy and I judged you too harshly at first… Sorry.” Rodimus finally risked a glance at Thunderclash now.

The big mech only smiled, “Don’t worry about it Rodimus, you haven’t hurt my feelings. I kind of thought that might have been the case before we met. It’s why I invited you out for fuel… I was hoping maybe I could change your mind.”

“Oh.” Rodimus breathed a little sigh of relief, “Um, well mission accomplished. Consider my mind changed.” He laughed awkwardly but felt mesmerized by the look in Thunderclash’s optics.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Thunderclash said, smiling in a way that was far too handsome for Rodimus’ liking, though it dropped a little, “And… As long as we’re fessing up to misunderstandings, I do have to admit that I didn’t actually think that there was someone you were looking to find a place on the crew for.”

Rodimus blinked for a moment, slightly confused, “If you didn’t then why…”

Thunderclash bit his bottom lip and Rodimus felt realization the dawn on him and an incredulous smile crossed his face.

“You thought I meant _me_ , didn’t you?”

Thunderclash actually looked embarrassed and Rodimus was living for it.

“Well, I-I mean, I didn’t immediately land on that conclusion… But you didn’t give me a name and you seemed so enthusiastic about joining the project. So after a while my processor just made it’s own connections… Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Rodimus laughed, “It’s just funny thinking about the context of the story, I mean it sounds kind of absurd.”

“Really, why?” Thunderclash asked, sounding puzzled.

“Oh, uh… Well I mean I’ve never even been in love…” Rodimus laughed awkwardly, “Which sounds bad now that I’m saying it out loud.”

Thunderclash shook his helm lightly, “There’s nothing ‘bad’ about that, it just means you have a whole new adventure ahead of you. A new experience.”

“Everything is an adventure with you isn’t it?” Rodimus asked with a chuckle.

Thunderclash rumbled a laugh, “I can think of no better way to describe a life worth living. Without adventure, things just feel…”

“Incomplete?” Rodimus finished for him.

Thunderclash nodded, “Exactly.”

There was a small pause as they walked in comfortable silence but that particular gnawing question popped into his helm again and he didn’t try to hold it back.

“Is,” Rodimus started slowly, “Is that also why you didn’t come to my bonding celebration? Because you thought I didn’t like you?”

“Oh, uh, well no. I was experiencing some pain in my spark from my old war wound that day and my doctor recommended that I stay off of my pedes,” Thunderclash explained, “I do feel bad that I missed it.”

“Oh,” Rodimus had to admit he hadn’t been expecting that to be the case, “Well don’t feel too bad. It was fun sure, but the politicians wouldn’t stop gabbing about the election for more than 5 kliks. Starscream was almost unbearable.”

“So I’ve heard, did you hear about the tax law he’s trying to get passed in Vos?” Thunderclash said idly.

“No, what has he done now?” Rodimus almost groaned aloud. Starscream used to be in the news almost weekly for his… interesting interpretation of policies and Rodimus would have to hear Megatron complain about it for hours. The big mech griped about how Starscream was allowed to be a senator but he wasn’t, which he had a point considering the amount of warcrimes they had was about the same. But Starscream had aligned himself with the NAILs just long enough and done the right things to be put in a better light than Megatron. For better or worse, people liked him.

“Did he try and weasel his way out of his taxes again?” Rodimus snorted.

“Close, he had the city accountant hiking up taxes for ‘influential reasons’ those reasons actually being his campaign fund.”

“Greeeeat.” Rodimus groaned, “I bet the rest of the council is thrilled about that.”

“I heard that a meeting will probably be called if the senators keep up their childishness.”

“Another reason to get off this rock as fast as possible then.” Rodimus chuckled.

“Agreed.” Thunderclash said, mirroring his sentiment with a chuckle of his own.

“Does your spark often bother you?” The question came out of his mouth before he could stop it, Rodimus realized, “If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

Thunderclash inclined his helm to the side in a half nod, “It comes and goes, it’s less than it used to be but I have the occasional off day.”

Rodimus frowned, “That must be annoying, I’ve had my own issues with my spark. Not that it compares, but I still get the occasional itch and burn in my spark casing.”

“Have you been to see a medic about it?”

“Nah, it’s probably nothing.” Rodimus waved it away, realizing that he was getting dangerously close to talking about why he hadn’t been to a medic _very_ recently.

“You shouldn’t put things like that off, it could turn into something serious.” Thunderclash frowned, his tone had changed to a much more admonishing one and Rodimus felt guilt pierce his spark.

“I know, I know, but I haven’t felt it in a long time so I figured it worked itself out.” He lied. The itch had been prevalent every so often for the past few years since he became Rodimus from Hot Rod. He wasn’t quite sure when it started up anymore and he was almost too embarrassed to bring it up to Ratchet now that it had been so long.

“You can never be too careful when it comes to things like that,” Thunderclash chided again, “I can’t tell you what to do but please consider talking to a medic about it.”

Rodimus cringed but he could tell that Thunderclash was talking from experience, “Okay, okay, I will.”

The smile returned to Thunderclash’s face, “And you’re probably right, it’s probably nothing, but you can never be too careful.”

Rodimus couldn’t help but find it strange, this whole new friendship he had with Thunderclash. The two of them connected in ways he had never expected to. But he was glad that he could enjoy the colorful mech’s company, it would make working with him more than worth it in the end. Getting to explore space and see the colonies was one thing. Getting to do that with a friend?

Rodimus couldn’t stop smiling at the prospect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, posted this without the summary at first because I was so eager lol I love this chapter I hope you guys do too


	14. Pop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day is over and it's time for some reflection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short. Enjoy.

After getting back to work for what could be said to be a reasonable amount of time, Rodimus and Thunderclash finally parted ways. Both with goals in mind, Thunderclash handling the paperwork for hiring their crew and Rodimus for finding the funding to get them off the ground.

When Rodimus left, Thunderclash sat behind his desk, suddenly feeling dower. Like all of his liveliness went out the door with Rodimus. He leaned on his desk, his chin resting on his palm, trying to read through another document that required his attention. All the while, his processor wouldn’t stop thinking about the red speedster. Rodimus had so much life to him and being near him was like standing in sunlight after a cold day.  But when he was gone he took his warmth with him, and the cold was quick to snuff out what lingered.

Thunderclash heard a knock at his door and he sat up, a small part of him hoping it was Rodimus again despite knowing how foolish that was.

“Oh, hey Riptide.” He greeted his friend as the hydrobot entered.

“You seem awfully down considering I just saw Rodimus coming from this way.” Riptide said knowingly.

Thunderclash grunted, “It’s not like that Riptide.”

“Not like what? I mean you told me a the other day that you were into him, now suddenly you two are _working together_.” Riptide said with a grin and a little extra inflection, “I think _someone_ is making his move.”

“No, no, Riptide,” Thunderclash reasoned gently, “We’re merely friends.”

“Which is the best place to start!” Riptide said sitting in the seat in front of him, excitedly motioning with his hands, “Get him to like you, give him a few gifts, maybe even do a few favors and—wham! You two will be making out on this desk before you know it!”

“Crass, Riptide, very crass.” Thunderclash deadpanned, shaking his helm, “That’s not at all why I’m doing this. Rodimus is genuinely interested in this project and I want to help him accomplish his dream. It’s just a simple coincidence that we both want the same things, and I’ll happily accept that for what it is. Not to mention… Even if I wanted to, Rodimus would never feel that way about me.”

“Why? Because of Megatron? A mech he married to keep the peace? Pfft,” Riptide scoffed, “Thunders you’re way better than that rust bucket.”

“It’s not just that Riptide. He even told me today that he did not like me before now.” Thunderclash sighed, “He also asked why I didn’t go to the bonding celebration for him and Megatron again.”

“Did you tell him?” Riptide said, his optics wide.

“Of course not. I told him that my spark had been bothering me. I feel bad for lying to him but if he didn’t like me before a week ago I doubt he would react well to… my feeling that way about him.” Thunderclash leaned his helm into his hand and shuttered his optics for a moment hearing his friend huff loudly.

“Riptide…” Thunderclash started quietly, “Did I ever tell you why I wanted to go back to space so badly?”

He blinked at Thunderclash, confused at the sudden change of topic, “No, why?”

“Because I’m getting old. And this place,” He motioned to the room around him and then out the window behind him, “Reminds me of that. It scares me Riptide. I don’t want to die here, living out the rest of my years pushing paperwork.”

“You still have lots of time left though?” Riptide said, sounding a little disconcerted.

“Maybe… maybe not. My spark has already started to cool.” Thunderclash admitted quietly.

“Cool? But you’re not—” Riptide broke off mid sentence, clearly thinking, “Is it because of your wound?”

Thunderclash nodded, “And that’s why I don’t want to start a new relationship. I don’t know how much time I have left. And without time, what have I to offer anyone else? It’s better this way.”

“That’s not true,” Riptide reached over and grabbed his hand, “You’re not giving up like this, I won’t let you.”

“Riptide.” Thunderclash shook his helm gently.

“No! You’ve done so much for me, it isn’t fair that I have to watch you give up on something that will make you happy!” Riptide cried, a flare of emotion coming from his EM field projecting his distress.

“I _am_ happy. I have lots of friends, even Rodimus is my friend now, the only thing I want is to spend my years doing what I love.” Thunderclash said reassuringly, taking the other mech’s hand in both of his and squeezing, “I don’t want to ask for more than that.”

“Why make friends with him in the first place? You couldn’t stand to go to his bonding celebration and watch him get conjunxed, do you really think you’ll be able to work so closely with him?” Riptide asked, concern evident in his voice, “You might end up hurting yourself.”

“I think it would hurt more to have to watch him from afar with him hating me.” Thunderclash said plainly, “At least this way, I’ll get a chance to be his friend.”

* * *

Rodimus sprang down the steps of the senate building at the end of the day, taking them three and four at a time until he reached the bottom where Megatron was waiting for him again.

“Good day?” Megatron asked.

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

“You’re smiling an awful lot.” Megatron said with a smirk, “Didn’t make Prowl’s life too miserable today did you? Being assigned as your secretary can’t be good for his health at this point.”

“Number one, _rude._ Number two, he assigned himself to that position so he deserves what he gets. And number three, no I didn’t make his life miserable. I just had a good day, is that so wrong?”

“No, of course not. I’ve just never seen you smile like that.” Megatron said with an amused smile of his own. 

Perhaps he meant it as a throwaway line but it made Rodimus stop for a moment. He hadn’t been this happy or excited in ages. He really was feeling like his old self again. Or at least he thought he was. Now that he was aware of it, it’s almost like it drained away from him and he felt a weird sense of guilt.

“Hey don’t stop on my account,” Rodimus looked up at Megatron, who was regarding him, “I didn’t think pointing it out would pop your bubble so quickly.”

Rodimus forced a smile back onto his lips, trying to regain some of his energy again, “Sorry, I just thought of something, it wasn’t you.”

Megatron let out an audible sigh.

“If you need to talk I’m here ok?” Megatron said softly, “I’m not very good at this sort of thing but I want to work at it. For both our sake and…” There was a long pause as the two stood at the station for their transport train.

“And?” Rodimus prodded.

“And,” Megatron surprised Rodimus with an arm around his shoulders, “It’s nice seeing you so happy. I don’t want you coming home to me to always dampen your spirits.”

Rodimus’ optics widened, “I-It wasn’t you, really! I just realized that I haven’t uh… been myself and… I guess maybe I only just noticed it.”

Megatron hummed in thought, “So what’s knew? What’s brought you back to your old self?”

Rodimus paused for a moment to think. Really, it was the thought of getting off of Cybertron he supposed. But that seemed like such a backhanded thing to say. It would sound like he was getting away from Megatron and he didn’t want that. It wasn’t the least bit true either but he doubted he could make the silver mech understand that, he was always so down on himself. But he didn’t want to lie to him either.

“I’m not sure. Just getting better I guess?” It wasn’t so much a lie… It just wasn’t the truth.

Megatron’s optics regarded him for half a moment too long, “Do you remember _why_ you started not feeling like yourself?”

Rodimus paused again, “Why? Uh, no. _When_ … Well…” He trailed off but Megatron nodded silently.

“We can talk about it when you’re ready.” Megatron said quietly.

“I’d like that.” Rodimus replied, meaning it earnestly although also dreading it. 

He wanted to be open with Megatron but there were so many things between them at this point. So many half-truths and omissions. Could he honestly say that Megatron really knew him despite spending a year together? Even more terrifying, could he say the same about himself? This year marked 13 years since the ceasefire and another 6 since he became Rodimus. Since Optimus died. And in all that time he still hadn’t dealt with who he had become and what he lost down in the planet’s core.

How could he be honest with Megatron despite not being honest with himself?

And when the night falls, his dreams betray him…

* * *

_He’s Hot Rod again._

_He’s smaller, hungrier, looking for his chance. He hides outside the war tent and listens._

_If anyone knew what he was doing they’d pull him by the spoiler and rip him a new one. He shouldn’t be here. But he needs to. He has to know._

_He hears the plan, he commits it to memory. He knows everything before anyone else. He makes his own plan and he waits for his moment._

_He follows Optimus Prime._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where am I going with this?


	15. Making Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drift makes a little discovery, Rodimus innocently invites Megatron on what is totally a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up on Friday but eh, I lost track of time. I promised some good times and ye shall be rewarded for making it this far into the fic. ;)

A week and a half pass by, uneventful as ever. Rodimus and Thunderclash spent about an hour each day together to make sure they had all of their proverbial ‘ducks’ in a row before they approach any possible donors for money. They need to make sure that their flight plan, at least for the first jaunt, was concise and had fueling depots explicitly listed as well as a clear objective and mission statement for the crew. Not to mention, they would have to do all of this and then have it looked over by Ultra Magnus to make sure it complied legally with intergalactic operations, and they expected it to be sent back to them marked with a slew of red at least twice. They had a long road ahead of them but at least they were making quick progress.

Meanwhile at home, Rodimus tries to make some headway on the ‘Megatron front’, as he has started referring to it. Megatron doesn’t retreat to his room as quickly as he used to, instead lingering and trying to fill the space with more meaningful conversations. Which Rodimus appreciates, but he also knows that the mech talks way too much in order to avoid what really needs to be done. So, while also not trying to make him uncomfortable, Rodimus gets a little more touchy with the silver mech. Sitting close to him so that their hips touch, casually leaning on him, just trying to break down that wall that the mech had built up over physical contact. And Megatron was getting more used to it, instead of going stiff as a board he would now lean into Rodimus’ touch.

Things were going so well that Rodimus felt he should have known something bad was going to happen. Well not bad, per se, but certainly a wrench in his otherwise improving life.

Rodimus threw his rubber band ball at the far wall with accuracy so that it came back to him and he could repeat the same motion again and again. He’d been doing this for probably too long but his processor felt fried so he knew inwardly he was done for the day and with a long weekend approaching for the Festival of Peace he felt he was allowed to goof off a bit. A knock at his door interrupted his rhythm however, and the ball banked off the wall and into a stack of data pads, clattering them to the floor with a cacophonous sound.

“Ah—Uuuh, come in!” Rodimus said, shuffling to pick up his spilled work.

Drift entered as he looked up, his arms full of data pads.

“Working hard?” Drift said, raising a brow at him.

“You could say that.” Rodimus shrugged, depositing the stacks back onto his desk.

“Uh huh,” Drift said picking up the abandoned rubber band ball and smirking, “Sure you were.”

“Okay so I was taking a little break, sue me.” Rodimus said, snatching the ball from his amica when he neared.

“What is that by the way?” Drift asked, “Some kind of Earth toy?”

“Yeah, when I was stationed on Earth they had these rubber balls they would throw and they would bounce all over the place. They were far too small for me to use and I kept popping the inflatable ones so they made me this,” Rodimus held up the ball, “Out of thousands of rubber bands, things they use to hold stuff together, so that I could have one too.”

“Wow, that must have taken them some dedication.” Drift said, looking closer at the ball so see the small strings of rubber holding it together.

“Yeah, apparently it took them months to get it this big. They made it as a going away present when I—” Rodimus paused, a memory of his Earth comrades filling him with such a strong sense of nostalgia that he wavered for a moment. He sat in his chair, feeling Drift’s optics still on him.

“Back when I was still Hot Rod…” He finished quietly. He looked up at his amica, who regarded him sadly.

Another knock came from the door and Rodimus jumped slightly in his seat again.

“You’re jumpy today aren’t you?” Drift teased.

Rodimus scowled at him, “Come in!” He called to the door as he dropped the ball into his desk drawer.

To his surprise, Thunderclash entered the office. He had already seen the big mech for the day so his appearance put Rodimus a little on edge at first. Fearing maybe something with their plans had gone wrong and maybe their whole project was going up in flames. Though that part was fighting with the other part that just enjoyed seeing him nowadays. His strange amalgamation of colors had become somewhat of a comfort. And his cheerful face and amazing smile weren’t half bad to look at either.

“Ah, hey Thunders, you need something?”

“If it’s not too much trouble— Oh,” Thunderclash paused, spotting Drift off to the side, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Nope, don’t mind me, just visiting Roddy,” Drift said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk and crossing his legs, “He never makes time for his amica anymore and I have to hunt him down at work!” He cried, rather melodramatically.

“More like you’re too busy banging Ratchet on every surface of the hospital—” Rodimus hissed and Drift shushed him insistently.

“Anyway, what did you need?” Rodimus said turning his attention back to Thunderclash.

“Uh, I just needed some signatures, just to verify that you’re officially a part of this project,” Thunderclash said as he approached with a data pad and a light pen, “Sorry it’s more paperwork but I figured if I brought it down myself it would be more exciting.”

“Thanks,” Rodimus takes it gingerly, smiling to himself as he signs the document quickly, “I trust that this isn’t some kind of contract I’m signing my soul away on?”

Thunderclash laughs lightly, “No no, of course not! I’ve sent it to you through your office email if you would like to read through it. If it puts your processor at ease, all of the legal responsibility is on myself so you don’t have to worry about anything if the project falls through.”

“Eh, I wasn’t really worried. I trust you ‘Clash.” Rodimus realized how weird that was to say only after he says it, though perhaps not weird to Thunderclash who everybody trusts anyway. But he only just realized just how much his relationship with the big bot had changed in such a short time.

Thunderclash gives him a broad smile, almost standing taller now, “Thank you Rodimus, I’ll just go file this with Ultra Magnus before the week end.” His large hand delicately takes the data pad from Rodimus.

“Right, see you next week then?” Rodimus asked with a slight hope in his spark.

“Of course, and it was good seeing you too, Drift,” Thunderclash said as he turned to give Drift a nod, “Have a good weekend.” 

Rodimus watches as he leaves, noting his large stature again as he avoids the smaller furniture and ducks out the doorway. Thunderclash’s chipper attitude would have irritated Rodimus before but now he can’t help but admire it, nothing ever seems to get him down. He’s literally as bright and cheerful as his colors in a lot of ways. And Rodimus couldn’t help but indulge in a brief thought about how nicely broad his colorful shoulders were before turning back to his amica. Who was giving him a very big and knowing smile.

“What?”

“You were absolutely checking him out.”

Rodimus nearly jumped out of his plating, “What? No I wasn’t!”

“Yes you were, Roddy,” Drift grinned, “I know that look, I’ve been on the _receiving end_ of that look.”

Rodimus sputtered slightly, “Yeah, w-well—so what?”

“Roddy don’t be ashamed!” Drift practically guffawed.

“I’m not ashamed!” Rodimus admitted, still sounding bashful, “He’s a handsome mech, anyone with optics can see that.”

“Oh he’s _handsome_ is he?” Drift said, his slag-eating grin growing wider.

Rodimus turned in his seat, putting his nose back into his work, “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Don’t be like that, I’m not scolding you or anything,” Drift said, coming over and excitedly shaking one of his shoulders, “I’m happy for you, I don’t think I could even come up with better fit if I tried!”

“Better fit?” Rodimus deadpanned.

“Yeah, he’s smart, funny, has the same knack for adventure— cough trouble cough cough— that you do; you two would make an amazing couple!”

“Couple?! Whoa, Drift, back it up— we’re only friends!” Rodimus reeled, spinning in his chair to look at him.

“Oh come on Roddy, you don’t look at a mech like that when you only want to be friends.” Drift nudged him.

Rodimus crossed his arms, “Yeah but you’re assuming a lot on Thunderclash’s behalf too, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“How do you know? Have you asked him?”

“No, because that would make things awkward when we are supposed to be working together.” Rodimus said, putting his nose in the air.

“That’s never stopped you before.” Drift said with a laugh.

“Well maybe I’m trying to be a better mech. A more responsible one.” Rodimus said haughtily.

“To that I’d say I’m proud of you but also that’s boring and you should let Thunderclash—”

“Don’t do it—”

“Thunder-SMA—”

Rodimus grabbed Drift’s face and squished his cheeks together to silence him, the white speedster laughing so hard that tears were shining at the edge of his optics. Drift grabbed at his wrists weakly but was too into the throes of his own laughter to actually pull Rodimus’ hands away.

“You’re really proud of that one aren’t you?” Rodimus shook his helm but Drift’s laughter was infectious and he couldn’t help but smile.

Rodimus watched Drift devolve into a mess of laughter as he released him. He hadn’t seen his friend this happy in a long time. Drift had always been more withdrawn but Rodimus knew his pension for being a clown was buried deep beneath that cold exterior. He knew that his new relationship probably had something to do with it, he hadn’t said much about it but Rodimus knew that Drift and Ratchet were finally together. He supposed that could explain why his friend was thrilled by the thought him and Thunderclash being together. 

“Listen, I hate to break it to you Drift but I can’t be with Thunderclash.” Rodimus sighed, “I still haven’t even bonded with Megatron yet, I don’t know how we’ll ever get there if I start dating now of all times.”

“Okay but after you guys bond it won’t be an issue. Why not get a head start? You don’t have to confess your love to him or anything but you could stand to flirt with him a little,” Drift nudged him, “Let him know you’re interested!”

Rodimus fidgeted a little with his hands. If he was in an acknowledging mood, he would say he was interested in Thunderclash, sure, but he was also becoming increasingly interested in Megatron as well. The two of them just had a chemistry he couldn’t explain. The closer he got to him the more he wanted… well _more_. But he also connected so well with Thunderclash at times he forgot he had ever thought he hated him. He liked being able to goof off with the colorful mech and somehow still be able to be doing what was considered ‘work’. That friendship had become invaluable to him and he couldn’t imagine having it any other way.

So with another sigh, “Drift I—…I’ll think about it, but I really should be focusing on my work.”

“Suit yourself,” Drift shrugged, “But I still think it’d be good for you to have a little romance in your life.”

“Of _course_ you do.” Rodimus said under his breath.

“What was that?” Drift put his hands on his hips.

“Drift you’re mooning around with Ratchet, the bot you’ve been in love with for _millions_ of years, of course you’re going to think I need a love life when yours is going so well.” Rodimus slumped down and rested his helm on the desk, pitifully, “I’m not like you though, remember?”

Drift was eerily silent and Rodimus angled his helm to look at the other speedster. Something was brewing behind those calculating blue optics and he might have been worried if they didn’t belong to his amica. Drift then cleared his intake with a sweet smile.

“How about this, you and I should go have a nice day together. The Festival of Peace is this weekend, we should go—play games, drink good fuel, have some sweets, and maybe even race around the festival grounds. What do you say?”

Rodimus raised a brow ridge suspiciously, “I would think you’d want to take Ratchet.”

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together recently, plus the festival lasts 4 days so I’ll have time to do both.” Drift said with a smirk.

“Well…” Rodimus smiled, “If that’s the case. Sure.”

* * *

“Do you want to go to the Festival of Peace?”

Megatron jumped in his seat on the couch as Rodimus had appeared right next to him out of nowhere.

“What?” He asked dumbly, setting down the article he had been engrossed in.

“The festival this weekend? Celebrating the magical peacetime we’ve had for 13 years.” Rodimus said, sounding both sarcastic and enthusiastic.

“And what, you need me to drag your aft home after you drink too much again?” Megatron said, jokingly but maybe a little too harsh as Rodimus simply pouted at his words.

“No! I want you to come because Drift invited me and I know he’s going to invite Ratchet too, even though he said he wasn’t going to.” Rodimus explained, grabbing hold of his arm and shaking Megatron gently.

“Why would he do that?” Megatron said, confused, “If he’s your friend shouldn’t he keep his promises?”

“You’d think, but I could tell he was planning something when we talked about it and I think he wants me to hang out with him and also Ratchet so that he doesn’t have to choose but I really don’t want to be a third wheel all night.” Rodimus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, “Or have to watch them make out, ugh.”

Megatron smiled in amusement. He normally didn’t go to the Festival of Peace. In part because he normally didn’t feel wanted but also because it brought up some painful memories. But if Rodimus was asking then he had reason to consider it. He could instead make new memories to temper the previous experience with something enjoyable. It could even be… Fun.

“Sure, I’ll go.” He said simply and enjoying the look on Rodimus’ face when his optics snapped back to him.

“Really? You will?” Rodimus asked, sounding dubious.

“It might be nice to spend some time together away from the apartment and work for once.” Megatron said with a smirk.

“Yes! Thank you!” Rodimus surprised him by reaching over and taking is helm in both hands and planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Rodimus retreated away but Megatron felt himself wanting to follow those lips. He barely stops himself, his optics finding blue ones staring back at him. His spark stutters for a moment, captivated by the look in those optics.

Rodimus’ hands, which had been pulling away suddenly find their way to his shoulders. Megatron sees the speedster bite his lip as he is drawing near again. He can’t resist, or he doesn’t want to, either way he pulls Rodimus close with hand on the small of his back and claims those lips with his own and quickly slips his glossa against his. Rodimus reciprocates eagerly, lightly moaning into his mouth. He hears the data pad he had been reading hit the ground, completely forgotten about.

Megatron notes that Rodimus is gentler than he was in their previous kiss, perhaps scared of earning a similar reaction to last time. Megatron understood his caution, feeling a little trepidatious himself, but he felt good about this. It wasn’t out of nowhere or after a stressful evening, it felt right. So he let himself get lost in the moment, leaning forward and holding the speedster’s slim waist in his hands.

Megatron bit down on the speedster’s lip, earning a scandalized gasp and a rev of his engines. He chuckled playfully before sucking on the bite apologetically. Rodimus squirmed in his hands, moving himself to a better angle, his leg moving over Megatron’s and straddling his thigh. Megatron barely noticed the move until he felt the speedster’s legs squeezing his, clearly trying not to grind down but failing slightly. Rodimus’ knee was pressed gently against his own panel and he could feel warmth building quickly behind it.

With the thought that since their windows were shuttered for the night anyway, he grabbed Rodimus’ round thigh and pulled it away from his own, allowing the speedier’s panel to come in contact with his leg fully. Rodimus groaned, leaning his helm back and shuttering his optics, to which Megatron used to gain access to his throat cables. He could hear the crackle of charge between them beginning as Rodimus gave into gently bouncing on his leg, his panel hot against him.

But another thought made Megatron pause his ministrations on Rodimus’ neck cables for a moment and the speedster immediately noticed.

“Is something wrong?” Rodimus asked, stopping his motion to look Megatron in the optic again, “Should we stop? Is this too fast?”

Megatron shook his helm, “No, I was just wondering if… if this was the moment? If you were expecting to bond?”

Rodimus smiled, “We don’t need to… Let’s just… have a little fun.”

Megatron liked that answer and he kissed Rodimus’ lips to tell him so. The speedster responded in kind by resuming his gentle grind on him but Megatron heard the soft noise of a transformation and felt wet valve lips kissing his thigh. 

Deciding to get a little more comfortable, Megatron angled himself and reclined into a laying position on the couch, pulling Rodimus down on top of him with their legs slightly woven together. Rodimus held himself up on his forearms as Megatron’s pelvic plating came in contact with his now pressurized spike. He heard Rodimus whimper into their kiss as Megatron lightly stroked Rodimus spike, taking in the size of him with a couple digits. 

For his stature, Rodimus was quite big, more than enough for Megatron, he reveled in the ridging around the head and how it tapered off a little at the base. He let his own panel slide away for his spike to join now, rubbing it up against the speedster’s slowly. He could feel Rodimus tighten his grip on his shoulder, pulling away from their kiss to look down at his spike. he couldn’t help but smirk at the speedster’s honest reaction and bright optics.

“You’re just as big as I thought you’d be.” Rodimus said, punctuating his statement with a swivel of his hips to get more friction.

“Did you think about that often?” Megatron purrs against Rodimus’ audial as he takes both their spikes in his hand and strokes them slowly.

“Ah! N-Not that I’d ever tell,” Rodimus gasps with an open mouth, “But I’m glad I wasn’t wrong—ng!”

Megatron couldn’t help but smirk at that, “You like big spikes I take it?” He squeezes their spikes a little harder as his strokes quicken. He notes how Rodimus’ spoiler quivers and his optics roll a little, but he doesn’t answer the question.

Megatron takes a moment to admire how beautiful Rodimus looks, his frame hot and steam coming from every gasp, beads of condensation roll down his curvaceous frame. He runs his fingers over sensitive seems and relishes the feeling of charge tickling his fingers through the gaps. The little noises the speedster makes brings him that much closer to spilling into his hand but he can’t overload yet, not until Rodimus does. He wants to see him overload, wants to watch his pretty face contort in pleasure. He looks at that inviting spoiler and moves his hand up the speedster’s back to it.

“Can I touch here?” Megatron touches the thin metal appendage where it connects to his back and he hears Rodimus’ venting hitch in his intake. He nods vigorously but Megatron isn’t satisfied with that, he nuzzles him, “I need to hear you say it.” He says against his cheek.

“Yes, yes please,” Rodimus gasps out, “I’d like that.”

He tweaked the metal between his fingers gently, before dragging his hand up to the tip. All the while applying even pressure and feeling an intense amount of charge zip through his hands. Rodimus moaned loudly, engine revving, his hips canting into Megatron’s hand and igniting sensors along his own spike. Megatron moved his hand back down, slowly, inching toward the joint. Rodimus was panting hard now, almost shaking and Megatron let out his own groan as he felt Rodimus’ hand come to grip his own around their spikes.

“M-M-Mega—Megatron!” Rodimus babbled, panting and moaning, his over-bright optics shuttered as he chased his overload.

Megatron bit his lip, feeling himself drawing closer and closer, but he couldn’t stop his next words, “You’re so beautiful.”

Rodimus’ optics shot open with sharp gasp as he overloaded, his spike pulsing as it shot hot spurts of transfluid over their chests. Charge came zipping from his frame and cascading over Megatron, his own overload following quickly thereafter and adding to the mess between them. He continued to tug gently on their spikes, drawing out Rodimus’ overload as much as possible before he collapsed on Megatron’s chest, his vents still heaving as they worked to cool him. A feat very much in vain as both their heated frames smothered each other.

The warmth was almost too much, and Megatron could feel recharge beckoning to him. He had enough will to resist the call but Rodimus apparently did not. He looked down at the sleeping face of the speedster and huffed a short laugh.

Even knowing that they were quite filthy, laying there, Megatron couldn’t bring himself to move. Not with Rodimus dozing on him like this. Seeing that the mess was mostly contained between them, Megatron decided it couldn’t hurt to wait until the speedster woke up. He just hoped Rodimus didn’t sleep in like he usually did on weekends. 

So with a sigh, Megatron closed his optics and laced his fingers over the back of his speedster-blanket. His spark feeling content for the first time since he couldn’t recall when.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew this chapter came out a LOT longer than expected but I didn't want to split it and have one chapter be just interfacing lmao. Also please take note that the tags have changed a bit to match more with what I'm going to be aiming for and I may still add more tags. To avoid spoilers I'll be sure to put warnings in front of certain chapters as well.


	16. Courtesy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet asks Thunderclash to come to the festival, Megatron helps Rodimus wash up.

Thunderclash was still in his office. He should have gone home by now but he couldn’t bring himself to. He had been sleeping in his office a lot lately. It was much bigger than his apartment anyway so he figured he might as well. He knew he wasn’t the only one who did it but it still wasn’t something someone of his reputation did. And he knew that certain mechs might frown upon him living here if they found out.

So with a resigned sigh he stood and decided to make the trek out to his place. It wasn’t very far, just far enough to be away from the noise of the construction in the downtown but close enough he could still smell it; the fresh concrete and hot metal from welding frames of new buildings. This late, no one stopped him to say hi or to chat. The only bots out were the nocturnal sort or bots who, like him, and had nothing better to do. As he approached the entrance to his building however, he saw a familiar figure waiting there.

“Ratchet?” He asked, bewildered, “What are you doing out here this late?”

Ratchet pursed his lips and narrowed his optics, his arms already crossed, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I uh,” He chuckled apologetically as he approached, “I stayed at work a bit longer than I intended… I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“Nah, I just got of work myself and I figured I would come down and see you,” Ratchet said, his face morphing into a more amused smile and closing the distance between them, pulling him into a hug, “It’s been awhile since we’ve talked in person and I wanted to come down extend an invitation to hang out at the Festival of Peace tomorrow with myself and Drift.” 

He pulled back and looked up at Thunderclash with wise blue optics. Despite being more than a million years his senior, Thunderclash had always felt like Ratchet was a part of his family, a long-lost spark brother almost. Though he certainly never let his years show, the stubborn medic.

“Oh, I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with him.” Thunderclash said, briefly recalling the words Rodimus had whispered quietly to his amica earlier and feeling slightly embarrassed by the notion.

“Well, that’s the thing, Drift also invited Rodimus along and I figured if I invited you then Rodimus would have someone to hang out with just in case Drift and I… you know,” Ratchet said suggestively, completely unashamed of his new intimate relationship, “I’m not saying we’re going to abandon you two but I thought it was a good idea just in case. Drift is determined to have some time with us both and this way Rodimus won’t get bored.”

At the mention of Rodimus, Thunderclash perked up, “You don’t think Rodimus would mind if I came along? I saw him today and he didn’t mention the festival at all…”

Ratchet shrugged, “I don’t see why he would mind, I thought you two were getting along pretty well? That’s what Drift was telling me the other day at least.”

“Uh, yeah, we’re working together,” Thunderclash said, somewhat bashful, “I just wasn’t sure if he would think of it as an intrusion on his time away from work.”

“Well, I can assure you that Rodimus won’t mind, he’s very laid back.” Ratchet grinned.

Thunderclash knew he probably shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite considering what he had told Springer and since his own feelings for Rodimus were along a similar line. But he reasoned that it wasn’t like he was trying to date Rodimus or anything, he was just going as a friend. And it was his good friend Ratchet who was asking so… How could he refuse?

* * *

Rodimus awoke, confused and groggy at first but then suddenly alert to being lifted into the air.

“What?” He asked lamely, rubbing an optic before realizing he was being carried by Megatron, “Megs?”

“You sleep heavier than Astrotrain after a barrel of engex.” Megatron said gruffly, “But it’s time to wake up.” Megatron walked them down the hall into his room and to the wash racks where he sat Rodimus on the vanity before turning on the water, “We’re going to be late to the festival at this rate.”

Not really registering what Megatron was saying as of yet, Rodimus looked himself over only to find that, save for the scuff marks, there weren’t any gross remnants of what went on last night, “Did you clean me?” He asked.

“What, did you expect me to let us sit in our fluids all night? Megatron said with a frown, “I’ll admit, I didn’t do a very good job, thus the wash racks.” He motioned to the spray before taking a stride to the door and closing it, remaining inside however.

“Are you going to join me?” Rodimus asked, raising an optic ridge. Megatron looked to be already clean and streak free, which meant he probably had gotten up before Rodimus to clean himself. Which made Rodimus curious, “I don’t want to assume but we are in _your_ wash racks not mine.”

Megatron had an amused glint in his optic, “Yours are too small and you’re going to need help getting all the scuff marks.”

Rodimus looked down at them but he didn’t see how he couldn’t deal with those himself. Megatron stepped forward, getting right in Rodimus’s space and making him look up. He reached over put a digit on the very tip of his spoiler. Rodimus gasped as he saw black streaks all along his spoiler, he looked over his shoulder into the mirror and saw even more all over his back. He wheezed a laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rodimus said, turning his focus back to the smirking face of Megatron.

“Sorry, matte black paint leaves more marks on a glossy paint job like yours.” Megatron remarked with a grin, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Rodimus groaned, “Well at least you’re nice enough to help me get it off, I once had a partner who let me walk around with a scuff mark on my aft for a whole three cycles without telling me it was there.”

He rolled his optics and hopped off the vanity and walked into the spray, grabbing a thick buffing sponge from the shelf. He turned to Megatron, who had an odd look on his face.

“What? Are you going to help me or not?” Rodimus crossed his arms, feeling a little embarrassed being under his intense gaze. His optics weren’t judgmental per se, but he had a feeling something was going through the mech’s processor and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know or not.

Megatron’s expression neutralized and he just gave a simple shrug before grabbing his own sponge and stepping into the spray with Rodimus. He motioned for Rodimus to turn around. He did, feeling a little tense as he realized just how weirdly intimate this just got. Sure, it’s not like how it had been last night but that almost made it worse. Last night the tension had a release, whereas now the tension was just acutely _there_.

Feeling the gentle stroking on his spoiler especially didn’t help, he had to grit his dentae slightly and tell his interface array that this wasn’t a come on. Megatron was just… cleaning him that’s all. Rodimus decided to try and enjoy it. He relaxed as best he could to the bigger bot’s handling as he cleaned his front plating almost absentmindedly. The way Megatron touched him was much more business like than last night, it didn’t linger if it didn’t have to. He’d never had a partner shower with him unless it lead to ‘facing so this was a nice change of pace. It still made Rodimus have to resist the urge to squirm though, especially when he got to the tips on his spoiler. It flicked from Megatron’s hands more than once.

“It didn’t fight me this much last night.” Megatron said into his audial, surprisingly close and Rodimus felt hotter than the spray around him all of a sudden.

“I wasn’t fighting against getting revved up last night.” Rodimus admitted simply, throwing a look over his shoulder at the big mech.

“I guess that make sense,” Megatron chuckled, “Well you’re all clean back here, don’t waste the hot solvent.” With that Megatron stepped out of the wash racks to dry off. 

Rodimus would have felt indignant at being left all hot and bothered in the shower if it weren’t for the fact that Megatron clearly hadn’t been aiming for that. He practically sped through cleaning the rest of his smudges after the silver mech left, giving himself a good once over in the mirror to make sure he got everything. He then went out into the living area where Megatron was sipping a cube of energon. The mech held up a second cube for him enticingly.

Rodimus took it with a smile, “Feeling generous today?”

“Just showing a little courtesy.” Megatron replied with a small shrug of his shoulders, “When are we supposed to be meeting your amica at the Festival?”

“Gah!” Rodimus jumped in his plating, “We were supposed to meet at midday!” He said, noticing the time was nearly 5 kliks past that. He chugged his cube before sending a quick message to Drift.

::Running late, be there soon!::

Rodimus grabbed Megatron’s arm and tugged him out the door, “Come on slow poke!” 

He heard him grumble in response as he drug his pedes so he could finish his cube but that didn’t diminish Rodimus’ excitement in the slightest. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Drift’s face when he saw he was out smarted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week, I'm expecting the next one to be a monster though. Expect some laughs in the next chapter ;)
> 
> Also I edited the cast of the fic because it was a LOT and I limited it to only people who have had some speaking roles thus far.


	17. The Festival of Peace Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus realizes he may not have thought this through...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew this one was gonna be huge and I unfortunately didn't get around to working on it as much as I wanted to during the week. I had a lot of stuff going on the past couple weeks, I took last week off for my birthday on the 27th and then I had to take like a day and a half to drive my dad to the airport this week. But I finished it! (Edited lightly so if there are mistakes I'll fix them later.)

Rodimus grinned cheekily at the look on Drift’s face when he spotted them.

The white speedster was right where he said they would meet, the makeshift pavilion where bots were already drinking away their sorrows with the many blends of engex to be had. The Festival of Peace had very quickly earned the reputation for being an engex lover’s dream, and a nightmare for whoever was staffing the security that year. Drift and Rodimus went at least once every year, though the white speedster typically abstained from drinking in favor of being able to drag Rodimus home at the end of the night. Tonight however, Rodimus was thinking being sober might actually be more of a benefit.

“Ready to go, amica?” Rodimus said with unrestrained glee.

Drift looked between him and Megatron, and oddly had fear in his optics for a moment. He cleared his intake and a forced smile appeared on his lips, “Yeah, of course! Hey Megs can you just hold the table for a moment while me and Roddy go get some fuel, thanks!” Drift grabbed ahold of him and pulled him towards the vendors before either he or Megatron could protest.

“You invited Megatron along?!” Drift whispered incredulously.

“Oh please Drift, you can’t tell me that Ratchet isn’t just waiting around the corner for us to ‘bump into him’,” Rodimus said with a roll of his optics, “This way I don’t have to suffer watching you two get all… yeesh.” Rodimus said with mock disgust, wiggling his plating for emphasis.

Drift had that odd look in his optics again, part fearful and part baffled it seemed. Rodimus tilted his helm at him. Drift then got a very devilish smirk on his face and he felt the wind go out of his sails despite not knowing why. That grin never meant anything good.

“You know what, you’re absolutely right. I did invite Ratchet.” Drift admitted with a shrug.

Rodimus narrowed his optics in suspicion, “Thanks for your honesty…”

“Well, we might as well get going then, I’m sure Ratty is around here somewhere… Oh there he is!” Drift pointed, that smile only growing wider.

Rodimus turned and he might have felt his spark shoot up into his helm to bounce around for a few moments as he stammered, his processor stalling. He grabbed Drift by the arm and pulled him down so he could hiss directly into his audial.

“Drift you didn’t.” Rodimus said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I did.” Drift said biting his lips but still smiling.

Rodimus could have died right then. He turned back around to see Ratchet and _Thunderclash_ coming their way, the big colorful mech having no idea what he had been pulled into. 

Panicking, Rodimus turned to run back to the safety of the pavilion, where maybe he could hide among the myriad of bots. He yelped as he was caught by the scruff of his neck by Drift.

“Drift!” He said, trying to remain as quiet as he could so as not to make a scene. So far Ratchet and Thunderclash hadn’t noticed them and he was determined to keep it that way.

Drift however, was not.

He pulled Rodimus under his arm with a quick movement and began marching them forward, “Ratchet!” He called happily.

Rodimus squirmed, trying not to thrash in his amica’s arm, hoping to still get away…

“Drift, Rodimus!” Too late. 

He heard Ratchet’s voice cry out cheerfully and he knew he was stuck now. He looked up as the two mechs stopped in front of them and he locked optics directly with Thunderclash. Magenta optics regarded him quizzically, though there was a nervous flicker to them he had never seen before. Perhaps he was just as uncomfortable being there as he was? That made Rodimus feel guilty, he hoped the big mech hadn’t been forced or tricked into this like Rodimus had been.

“What a nice surprise, running into you two here.” Ratchet said, really laying it on thick and Rodimus felt like he was going to die from embarrassment.

“You can drop the act Ratchet, he’s been onto us from the beginning.” Drift said with a subtle wink.

“Oh, well I hope you can forgive us, we just wanted to be able to spend time together, you know how it is,” Ratchet said with a chuckle, “I actually brought Thunderclash along to keep things from getting awkward.”

Rodimus tried to make his smile seem friendly and not as uncomfortable as he felt. Then he grew aware to an all to familiar presence behind him and his smile fell from his lips into a slight grimace.

“Rodimus had a similar idea himself.” Megatron chimed in over his shoulder, in voice that was far too calm for this situation. Though, then again, it’s not like he was attracted to two different mechs and was being peer pressured by his amica to date one of them and somehow ended up on the date with _both_ of them. 

Because that would be _absurd_.

Rodimus was acutely aware of the surprise on Ratchet and Thunderclash’s faceplates as the group fell into a silence that could only be described as awkward.

“Oh, well if I’m not needed here, I’ll just head out,” Thunderclash said gently, though Rodimus could see that he looked disappointed, “The five of us might be too many.”

“Uh, no wait,” Rodimus felt words tumbling from his lips and he couldn’t stop, “You don’t have to leave Thunders, after all you did come all this way. The more the merrier right?” There was a pause and Rodimus glanced around with as big a smile as he could muster on his face. 

The reactions were quite divided. Drift was a little confused, though still smiling, perhaps because he thought Rodimus had wanted Thunderclash gone. Which he did… but also he didn’t— it was a complicated emotion. Ratchet just looked amused and Rodimus prayed that the medic wasn’t going to try and embarrass him. Ratchet knew him very well and the look on his face said it all. Meanwhile Thunderclash also looked surprised, but in a different way than Drift, it almost looked to be enthusiasm. And when his gaze fell on Megatron he looked to be slightly confused and maybe a little bit unsure. 

“If I’m not imposing,” Thunderclash smiled in that way that made Rodimus feel his tanks flip, “I would love to tag along.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s a festival! There’s plenty to do so let’s get started,” Rodimus grabbed Drift by the wrist and took off at almost a sprint, “Try to keep up!”

Once they were out of earshot but not out of sight, Rodimus slowed down to give Drift a glare.

“You’re just the worst, you know that.” He chided at the white speedster who looked affronted.

“Me? I was just trying to get you a date, it’s not my fault you brought along the buzzkill.”

“Hey, you’re the one who is always saying I need to share my life with him if I’m going to, y’know, _share my spark_ with him.” Rodimus whispered the last part harshly.

“Yeah but that’s just for the treaty, Thunderclash could be _the_ one. He could make you happy!” Drift whispered back with a nudge.

Rodimus cringed inwardly. He felt so conflicted about all of this. He liked Thunderclash but he wasn’t sure if beginning a relationship while he was still trying to bond with Megatron seemed inappropriate. And not the fun kind of inappropriate. Not to mention he was still sorting his feelings out for Megatron himself, which was proving to be quite the endeavor since the silver mech refused to open up to him. Last night had been fun, sure, but they still had a long way to go before they would be comfortable enough to bond. Rodimus wasn’t sure if his feelings would fade or if the effort put into the bond would only make them grow stronger.

“About that, Drift… It’s come to my attention that maybe I, and don’t judge me for this, I might be… _attracted_ to Megatron.” Rodimus said the last part so quietly he wasn’t sure if Drift heard him. Drift’s confused blinking optics assured him that he did, however.

“Excuse me? What?” Drift shook his helm, “Are you sure the domestic life isn’t getting to you? Sharing a space can make you think you’re a lot closer than you are.”

“It’s not that Drift, I don’t know when it started but,” Rodimus checked to make sure their entourage wasn’t closing in on them before continuing, “I feel— I don’t know—a spark. I know it sounds cheesy but when he’s around I feel like I could take on the world…”

“Okay, then why did you have Thunderclash come along anyway?” Drift asked.

“I don’t know— He just looked so sad that he had to leave! I didn’t want to have to apologize to him when we get back to work, a-and…” Rodimus could feel himself rambling so he slowed himself down, “I think I’m also attracted to him too? He’s not just handsome, he also gets me on so many levels it’s almost _weird_. And I think I just want to… explore my options?”

Drift raised a brow ridge at him, “Doing a side-by-side comparison?”

“Primus, it sounds awful of me when you put it like that,” Rodimus cringed, “I’m just really torn and I just want to be able to know them both better.”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” Drift put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m just not sure you’ve thought this plan through completely.”

“Do I ever?” Rodimus chuckled but it held no mirth.

* * *

Thunderclash swallowed nervously.

The group had been wandering the festival grounds for only 20 kliks but in that time he had lagged behind the group to simply observe. He never liked being in such close proximity to Megatron. He knew he shouldn’t hold anything against him, he’d proven himself an invaluable ally in the fight against the quintessons, but Thunderclash had yet to really forgive the mech for the attempt on his own life. He understood that it had been war, everyone had done terrible things, Megatron was no different. The silver mech tried to kill him to take the matrix and he tried to do the same to Megatron to end the war. It was hard to just… sweep that history away even when Megatron had been granted amnesty and been acquitted of all the terrible atrocities done by his generals. Though, Thunderclash supposed that maybe he just hadn’t given himself a chance to.

Rodimus didn’t seem to be bothered by Megatron’s presence in the slightest. Of course that made sense, they’d spent nearly a year living together and they were… bonded. So of course Rodimus at least _liked_ the silver mech. Thunderclash would be lying if he didn’t admit to being a little jealous of their relationship. The whole reason he had spent his time staying away from the red speedster was so that he didn’t have to feel this way. Angry that Rodimus was bonded to a mech like Megatron and sad that any opportunity Thunderclash might have had to win over Rodimus was stolen from him by a treaty that had been written for Optimus.

Subsequently, he was ashamed of those feelings. Rodimus did the right thing, keeping the peace and marrying Megatron. But Thunderclash wished that the red mech had been given a chance to find real love. This wish was completely selfish however, as Thunderclash also wished he had been the one he would fall in love with…

But there was no use to dwell on ‘what ifs’. Rodimus was bonded to Megatron, and they looked to be happy together after all… If the way Rodimus would smile at him or the context of their playful banter was anything to go by. He should simply be happy that Rodimus had bonded to a mech who really cared about him.

“You alright back there Thunderclash?”

Thunderclash looked up from whatever he had been staring at, the ground most likely, to Rodimus who was giving him a curious look.

“Ah, yes, I was just… thinking.”

“Well don’t think too hard! Today is about having fun!” Rodimus threw something at him which he caught gingerly. It was an enclosed energon sweet, a large one, gleaming pink and blue.

Rodimus passed one to all of their group, “These are my favorite and this guy only makes them for the festival,” Rodimus said, thumbing to a mech over his shoulder.

The cook waved a spatula with one of his 6 arms and winked his single optic at them, “Some things are best had in moderation young Rodimus.” He said in a chirping voice, clearly amused.

“No kidding,” Ratchet commented after taking a bite of his, “I think this is going to give me a spark-attack.”

The group continued on as they ate, Thunderclash opened up the wrapper and got an intense waft of sweet air coming from the treat. He put it up to his intake and as he took a bite he briefly recalled their conversation about banned sweets and he prayed that this didn’t contain any illicit substances.

The outside of the treat was a slightly hard shell that gave way to a soft and airy texture within, he was surprised to find a whipped substance inside as well and he had to keep some of it from falling apart when he pulled away. The sweetness made his mouth almost ache and he felt extremely energized almost instantly. He could help but smile around it because this had to be the most ‘Rodimus’ thing he had ever tasted. For everyone else the treat was large enough to be almost a meal but for Thunderclash and Megatron it was merely a few bites, though Ratchet ended up giving half of his to Rodimus.

“Probably for the best, don’t want your spark giving out on poor Drift,” Rodimus remarked and though Drift and Megatron both shared uncomfortable looks, Thunderclash merely laughed. Which in turn earned himself a few odd looks.

“What?” He said, surprising himself with his shamelessness, “I went to the academy with Ratchet, I know what he’s like.”

“You did?” Rodimus asked, his optics big and full of mischief.

“Yup, I was his roommate. I’m probably the only reason he survived final exam week,” Thunderclash said with a wistful smile before shooting Ratchet a knowing look and a wink, “I kept him sober enough to pass.”

“That’s only because you were too young to even drink.” Ratchet barked a laugh, “But credit where it’s due, I probably wouldn’t have passed without your help.”

“I was happy to help.” Thunderclash smiled.

“Oooh, this booth is new.” Drift said, pointing out a slightly shoddy but otherwise cheerful looking booth labeled ‘DUNK A ‘CON’ by a large sign in front of a tank of oil.

A deep magenta colored mech sat on a seat with his pedes dangling just above the liquid, making faces and yelling obscenities at mechs who were trying to hit a target just to the side of him. Thunderclash could labor a guess that if struck then the bot would undoubtably be dunked into the oil.

“I bet Drift could hit that with his optics closed.” Rodimus said with a laugh.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Drift grinned, “Anyone else want to give it a try?”

Megatron simply shook his helm and Ratchet shrugged.

“I’ve never been one for festival games,” The medic grunted, “But I’ll give it a try.”

“Great! You in too Thunders?” Thunderclash jumped a little as Rodimus elbowed him gently in the side.

“Of course, though I hope he doesn’t get angry when he falls in, he doesn’t look like he’s been hit yet.” Thunderclash said with a motion to the mech sitting over the tank.

“Ever the confident one, all these games are rigged.” Ratchet said with a cynical roll of his optics.

“It’s all about the proper application of strength and accuracy,” Megatron said from the back, “It’s not hard if you understand the basics of it.”

“If its so easy, why don’t you want to try?” Rodimus asked skeptically.

“Because it’s not fun if you know the outcome.” Megatron said with a shrug.

“And you say _I’m_ the confident one.” Thunderclash said to Ratchet in a low whisper, prompting the medic to snort.

The group stepped up to the front to see a masked mech handing out the heavy balls that were being used for the game, the mech promptly stood from his seat with wide optics.

“Lord Mega—I mean, Megatron!” Came a voice from the tank, “Hey Spin, look whose here!”

A large helicopter mech who was picking up the used balls from behind the counter stood up suddenly and banged his helm on the ceiling of the short booth. The helicopter growled as the magenta mech laughed a little too gleefully.

“I thought I recognized this group,” Megatron said a shockingly genuine smile painting his face, “Krok, Spinister, Misfire— I’m glad to see some familiar faces.” The silver mech said, indicating subtly to each one.

“Flywheels and Crankcase are gonna be so mad they missed out this year!” Misfire beamed from his seat in the tank, “So whose playing? Do any of you ‘Bots think you have what it takes to knock me down!” The magenta jet wiggled in his seat.

“It’s 5 shanix a ball,” The one named Krok said from behind the counter before stammering slightly, “Uh I mean, for you I could do 3 shanix a ball.”

“Thank you but 5 will be fine, I don’t need special treatment.” Megatron said, “And I’m not going to be participating anyway.”

That last statement earned a disappointed groan from Misfire.

“Well it looks like I’ll be keeping dry all night then!” Misfire chimed devilishly, “‘Cause I doubt any of you have the chops to knock me down.”

Thunderclash couldn’t help but notice Rodimus and Drift exchange a glance. Drift then kindly payed for all of them to have a single toss at the target. Ratchet stepped forward first and threw it with all his might but it only glanced the very edge of the target. 

Misfire chortled, “My therapist throws better than that!”

Ratchet grumbled, “I’ve never been good with games like this.” He shrugged and walked back to stand with Drift who patted him on the shoulder with a smile which Ratchet returned in kind.

Rodimus stepped up next and lobbed the ball over head, missing the target pretty handily.

“Boo! You throw like a sparkling!” Misfire jeered, “I thought Primes were supposed to be good at everything!”

Thunderclash wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed but there was a change in Rodimus mood suddenly. The red speedster slammed down a few more shanix to get a couple more chances but his second attempt went about as well as the first. Thunderclash began to worry a little when Misfire continued to jeer and Rodimus was only getting angrier. He was about to step in when Megatron beat him to it. Grabbing hold of his hand to stop him from throwing away his final ball.

“Just hold on Rodimus.” Megatron said sounding surprisingly soft.

Thunderclash couldn’t hear what was being said but he was amazed with how Rodimus responded to Megatron’s instructions. He corrected his stance and told him something that made Rodimus become calm again, which was amazing in and of itself. He had heard that Rodimus was a tough fire to extinguish when he got going. But the result of Megatron’s intervention spoke for itself.

Rodimus’ next throw hit the target on the spot.

Misfire made a half-choked yelp as he splashed down into the oil and Rodimus cheered.

“Ha! That was amazing!” Rodimus said, beaming brightly, “Sorry I took so long, Drift, Thunders, go ahead and clean up.”

Thunderclash looked to Drift who simply motioned him forward. Misfire had just retaken his seat as Spinister reset the booth when Thunderclash took his position and threw the ball right on target, dunking the jet once again. He almost felt bad for him. Almost. He turned around only to see Drift had purchased to more balls and he took his position with an almost malicious smirk on his face.

Misfire got back up on his seat just in time for Drift to call out, “You know, I was a ‘Con once, maybe you’ll remember me.”

The first ball couldn’t have been more centered on the target and Misfire yelled again.

His dark helm popped out of the oil his optics wide, “Uh oh.”

“Oh yes.” Drift said with a grin, “Now get back up there I still have two more turns.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might I just add:
> 
> And they were roommates...
> 
> ;)


	18. The Festival of Peace Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash gets a gift...

Once Drift was finished making Misfire miserable, the group moved on. Lazily walking among the crowd and stopping every so often to take a look at a booth or two. A lot of the stands had odds and ends, knick knacks from other planets, and even jewelry. Though Thunderclash found the shiny baubles to be slightly ostentatious himself, Drift and Rodimus stopped for the longest at a booth selling crystalline ornaments, mostly for a laugh it seemed as they did their best impression of senator Starscream in his gaudy crown. Though after awhile they grew bored of the vendors and made their way back to the festival games.

“Oh, oh! This one!” Drift nudged them towards a booth with a couple standing in front of it. 

The larger of the two bots, a tank former from the looks of it, brought a large hammer overhead and back down on a pedestal that launched a weight upwards. It hit the bell at the top and the mech running the booth then let them pick a prize from a collection of stuffed toys, most of which where larger than the smaller counterpart of the mech who won it. It was quite comical to see the small mech be handed the large plush and be nearly swallowed by it’s mass.

“18 shanix to play, I’ll buy, so whose first?” Drift said, turning to look at Thunderclash.

He felt suddenly put on the spot as the rest of their group looked at him.

“I-I don’t know if I’ve really got it in me. My spark’s not in the best condition—one too many adventures.” He laughed off the embarrassment he felt. He wasn’t as strong as he used to be, and despite how easy that first mech may have made it look, he knew these games could be tough.

“Megatron?” Drift turned his attention to the silver mech.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve been so de-powered from the treaty I don’t think I can win.” Megatron said gruffly. Thunderclash was surprised at his candidness, he didn’t think Megatron would have ever openly admitted to weakness.

A loud _clang_ brought their attention back to the game itself. As Ratchet had taken it upon himself to go first. The medic turned and gave a wry smile.

“You all were taking too long.” Ratchet said as he grabbed his prize, a large plush orange and black striped feline, and tossed it to Drift.

“Any other takers?” The mech running the game asked sourly, “If not then move along, I’ve got other customers waiting.”

Thunderclash hesitated for a moment thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could win a prize for Rodimus. There was a giant red and yellow dragon plush that he might like… But would it be too forward of a gesture? In front of Megatron of all mechs? Thunderclash became so caught up in his indecision that he hadn’t noticed Rodimus take hold of the hammer until he was bringing it down onto the plate and the game was lighting up once more.

His jaw went a little slack in surprise as Rodimus claimed his prize, the dragon plush that Thunderclash had been staring at, with a pleased smile. He knew that the prime was strong but he didn’t know he was _that_ strong. 

“Well, we better not linger,” Rodimus said as he approached Megatron and Thunderclash, “Here, you can have this ‘Clash.”

Thunderclash’s optics widened as he looked at the proffered plush, very aware of Megatron standing just over his shoulder.

“Uh, thank you Rodimus but it’s yours, you should keep it.” He said gently.

Rodimus frowned slightly, “I got it for you, I saw you staring at it…”

Thunderclash's optics widened even further and his spark warmed, “Oh, thank you— that is so very kind of you.” He accepted the dragon with a smile, “I guess I wasn't expecting such a gift, but I will gladly accept it.”

“No problem Thunders.” Rodimus’ smile resumed and he turned back around, “Ah pit, Drift and Ratchet have already wandered off.”

“I’m sure they’re just up ahead.” Thunderclash offered as they walked.

“No, they did this on purpose.” Rodimus said with his hands on his hips, looking around. For some reason his mood had shifted again, Thunderclash noticed that when Drift was too far he always seemed to become more cagey.

“I’m sure they’ll find us again when they want to, besides,” Megatron added, “That’s why you have us here, so that they can have their alone time.”

“Uh, yeah.” Rodimus pointed far off, “Hey are your guys’ tanks rumbling? Mine are, let’s go get some fuel.” The speedster said quickly before starting off towards the pavilion. Thunderclash felt a little confused and he looked at Megatron who gave him an equally confused look.

“Is he like this when you two are at work?” Megatron asked, coming to walk beside him. Thunderclash blinked, feeling weird that Megatron was talking directly to him.

“No, not at all.” He replied simply, “Though I admit, we don’t spend much time together.”

“I spend a lot of time with him and he still never ceases to confuse me sometimes,” Megatron said with a half chuckle, “I guess he’s a more complicated mech than he looks.”

“Complicated… I wanted to ask by the way. What was it you said to him to calm him down at the dunk tank? He seemed so irate, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone calm him so effectively.” Thunderclash asked.

“Living with him necessitates learning how to handle fire at times,” Megatron shrugged, “The key is to not try to stamp it out. Rodimus doesn’t react well to being told to stop or that he can’t do something. So instead you point him in the right direction.”

“So… the target?” Thunderclash tilted his head at the silver mech.

“I just told him to imagine it was Misfire’s helm.” Megatron rumbled a laugh, “It worked better than I could have thought.”

Thunderclash laughed, “Ah, that would do it.”

“I can’t take all the credit, Rodimus could do it all along, he didn’t really need my help. He just gets in his own way sometimes.” Megatron said, looking ahead at Rodimus who was waving them to a table. A different kind of smile tugged at his features then. It was small and if you didn’t look closely you would have missed it.

There was something about Megatron’s smile that touched Thunderclash’s spark in that moment. The way he talked about Rodimus, the laugh, the smile, all of it. Thunderclash could see it plainly, even if maybe Megatron didn’t. And Thunderclash suddenly felt a little relieved because even through strange circumstances, at least he knew that Rodimus had married a bot who loved him.

* * *

Rodimus sat anxiously across from his dates.

Okay that was weird, let’s not call them _dates_.

How about… mutual interest parties… MIPs for short.

Yeah that’ll work for now.

Rodimus ground his dentae while mulling over his inner monologue and didn’t even realize he was being spoken to.

“Hm?” He said, bringing his attention back to the actual bots in front of him.

“I was just saying that we might want to move on without your amica. Him and Ratchet are… undoubtably occupied.” Megatron cringed a little at his own words.

Rodimus frowned, the next part was supposed to be something that he did with Drift almost every year on this night. He had tried to get in contact with his amica but he must have been terribly _busy_. Rodimus always knew Drift would find someone eventually and that the things they shared would have to take the backseat but he didn’t think it would happen while he was simultaneously on an awkward date. Which honestly was only awkward because there were three of them on it. If he was only on a date with either Megatron or Thunderclash he’d say this was going well. He even won a prize for Thunderclash, that handsome little dragon plush which he had been sorely tempted to keep but Thunderclash was giving it such a hard stare he felt the big mech needed it.

Though, Rodimus couldn’t help but feel so weird about this for a multitude of reasons. He felt a little like he was lying to both of them. He knew he shouldn’t, it’s not like either of them had thought this was a date—actually Megatron might have if not for Thunderclash showing up. But the two of them had no idea what was really going on in Rodimus’ helm; that he was very subtly weighing the choice between the two of them. He wasn’t going to act on it, regardless of who he chose, because his life was far too complicated to start any real relationships. Never mind what Drift said, Rodimus could live without a love life just fine.

Thunderclash didn’t even seem ‘interested’ in him either. He had been mostly quiet this entire time. Quieter than Megatron even, and that truly was a surprise. He wondered if maybe being around the silver mech is what caused him to clam up. That didn’t make sense either because when he had gone ahead he saw them talking when he turned around…

Rodimus sighed, “Yeah, I guess we can move on.”

“I’m sure they’ll catch up at some point,” Thunderclash piped up, reassuring, “I’ll message Ratchet so he knows where we are going.”

“I doubt it’ll help.” Rodimus said, completely soured. He stood and his entourage of tall mechs followed him.

They skirted the edge of the pavilion where most of the mechs at the festival had retired to, content to drink the rest of the night away. Groups of mech roared with laughter, which made Rodimus feel slightly self conscious for no real good reason. He ignored it and plastered a smile on his face, trying to get it to reach his optics. As they reached the edge of the festival grounds towards more of the booths and games, a bot stepped out of the crowd and stopped in front of Rodimus.

“Hey Trailcutter! Having a good time I see—!” He greeted the mech before he was promptly picked up into a crushing embrace, “Ack, it’s good to see you too, buddy! But you’re kind of breaking my spinal strut.”

“But I’ve mi— _hic_ —missed you so much!” Trailcutter slurred, sounding more than a little off balance. He released Rodimus back onto his pedes.

“I feel like I never get to s— _hic_ —see you anymore,” The mech wobbled a step forward, turning his helm over Rodimus’ shoulder, “Not since you were taken away from us.” The bot hissed.

Rodimus rolled his optics, “I’ve just been busy, Teebs, I didn’t die or anything.”

“Funny how that works, you get married and then you just get _busy_.” Trailcutter’s voice got a strange edge to it and Rodimus now realized that the mech wasn’t even really talking to him anymore.

Rodimus looked over his shoulder to see Megatron glaring resolutely back at Trailcutter.

“If you’re implying that Rodimus’ lack of good scheduling is my fault, I suggest you re-evaluate your facts.” Megatron grumbled.

Rodimus felt more than heard Trailcutter take an aggressive stomp forward and he quickly pressed a hand to the mech’s chestplates, “Hey, c’mon guys let’s just enjoy the festival.”

Trailcutter wobbled again, not taking his optics off of Megatron. He had a strange fury in his optics, which Rodimus blamed on him being drunk. Thankfully Rodimus had his wits about him still or this situation could easily get out of hand.

“Optimus wouldn’t have let you turn him into a little glitch…” Trailcutter said to Megatron in a harsh whisper that made Rodimus’ plating flare indignantly and his hand on the mech’s chest pushed hard.

Harder than intended.

Trailcutter hit the ground and his pedes flew over his helm, somersaulting backwards and face-planting several feet away. The motion in the pavilion ground to a halt, a loud silence replacing the previous sounds of joy and merriment. Rodimus felt his energon run cold. How could he do that to his friend? He felt frozen in the optics of all the bots around him.

Thunderclash came around to Trailcutter’s side and helped the mech up. The mech could barely stand as it was so he had to be passed to a few other bots to get him to his seat again. As everyone’s attention turned to Trailcutter to make sure he was okay, knowing it would eventually turn on him after a few moments, Rodimus bolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this chapter wasn't out last week. It turned into a monster and I eventually just gave up trying to tame it and split it into two. So the Festival which was 2 parts is now 3 parts DX This whole chunk of the story I didn't have pre-written because I was busy writing pretty much everything after it and I was just like; "I know what's going to happen, it'll be fine...." Ooops. Anyways, going to be getting on track for that super secret surprise that's coming ;)


	19. The Festival of Peace Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward conversations are had.

Megatron was frozen in place. 

His short temper had been about to snap at the drunk mech in front of them. He had been seconds away from losing it at the mech for implying such terrible things about himself and not to mention Rodimus who especially didn’t deserve such slander. But Rodimus beat him to the punch, almost literally.

He was so paralyzed that he couldn’t get himself to move fast enough when he realized Rodimus was running. He watched the red speedster slip out of his reach and disappear into the crowd that was forming, coming to see what had happened. He could have called out to him but his voice was stuck in his intake. Stuck there by the guilt that he felt. 

If Rodimus and him hadn’t become involved, hadn’t married for the treaty, then the red mech would have been treated with the respect he deserved. Megatron often wondered if Rodimus was as ashamed as the others implied he should be. If he regretted the agreeing to treaty… Megatron could hardly blame him if he did. He looked over at Thunderclash who was checking Trailcutter to make sure he was okay. The big colorful mech was completely oblivious to the subtext of this situation. Simply free enough to help someone in need without having to worry about any social backlash. Megatron was envious of that, which made him angry and hang his helm.

Thunderclash came over at last, giving Megatron a once over,“Where’s Rodimus?”

“He ran off.” Megatron said stiffly.

“You just let him go?” Thunderclash asked, plainly but it prickled Megatron’s plating regardless.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Megatron ground out, “He’s too fast for me.”

Thunderclash let out a sigh, “We should find him and make sure he knows that Trailcutter didn’t mean that, he’s just drunk and not thinking straight.” Thunderclash explained quietly.

“You mean, you heard what he said?”

“It wasn’t hard to, Trailcutter doesn’t know the meaning of the word discretion even when he isn’t completely overcharged.” Thunderclash shook his helm solemnly.

Megatron frowned almost grumpily, “Then why did you go over to check on him? He got what he deserved.”

“I think Rodimus would beg to differ.” Thunderclash said sternly before turning to go, waiting for just a moment to see if Megatron would follow.

Megatron did, keeping a optic on the mech beside him, “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious that he regretted his actions right after it happened? If you couldn’t tell from his body language then him running off should have been a big indicator.” Thunderclash said, raising a brow at him.

Megatron cursed himself slightly. He hadn’t noticed. He had been too shocked to even do anything, too stuck in his own helm about what was going on that he didn’t see what was literally happening in front of him.

“Besides,” Thunderclash continued, “Trailcutter is a friend, sometimes a bad one, but when our friends get knocked down we pick them back up.”

“How very Autobot of you.” Megatron said, sounding snider than he intended.

Thunderclash hummed gently, “I’m hoping it’ll catch on and become a very _Cybertronian_ way.”

Megatron gave a little nod to that. It truly would be a better place if all mechs were a little more like Thunderclash. Since he had been so blind before, Megatron let himself look a little closer now at the colorful mech. Going to pick up a friend who had just insulted another may have seemed like such a noble thing to do. But the expression on his faceplate said it all. He was being kind because that was who he was, but clearly Thunderclash was angry. Probably the angriest he had ever seen the mech. 

Funny enough, it still wasn’t much more than a furrowed brow and a set jaw. His optics, noticeably red optics with a slight pink hue, were bright and alert while scanning the crowd. He was just ever so slightly taller than Megatron but his presence almost drowned him out. The whole night as they walked mechs had waved to him in greeting. Megatron’s worry about being unwelcome had been almost unfounded, until recently at least, all because Thunderclash had been with them. No one disliked him. Megatron could even recall that during the war a few decepticons had to be reprimanded for having posters of the autobot stashed in their room. 

Thunderclash stopped for a moment at an intersection to look around and Megatron cleared his intake, “Thank you, Thunderclash.”

“For what?” Thunderclash stopped to look at him, his face looking almost startled.

“For… For being here today I guess. I think today wouldn’t have gone as well if you hadn’t been here,” Megatron lost his voice slightly, “And I definitely wouldn’t have handled this situation well without you.”

“You’re welcome. Though, I don’t think that’s all entirely true, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Thunderclash flashed him a smile.

Megatron raised a brow at him, “How so? You saw how I was treated back there.”

Thunderclash clapped a hand on his shoulder and shook his helm, “I think that is a very bleak way of looking at the world. One experience shouldn’t sour your outlook on others. Even if Trailcutter had done the same thing, my not being here would have very little impact on the outcome. Someone else would have helped him up, someone else would have helped you find Rodimus because it’s what you would have done regardless of my being here right?”

Megatron nodded silently, a little struck by the mech’s sudden candor.

Thunderclash thrust a digit at his chest plates, “That’s what really matters, not what any other mech here would do, but what _you_ would do Megatron. We cannot control the actions of others, only ourselves. So we should live our lives that way, or else our fears might keep us from living at all.” With that comment, Thunderclash turned back to the crowd.

Megatron chewed on that thought for a moment before following again. Perhaps Thunderclash was right and he was just throwing the situation out of proportion. Looking around however, he didn’t tend to agree. No other bot would meet his gaze and most actively avoided coming near them. So while the thought behind the statement was nice, Thunderclash was living in a different world than Megatron was. He did agree on one thing though, he wasn’t going to let himself be afraid to live in this world no matter how much it despised him.

As fortune would have it, Rodimus didn’t get far. They found him tucked into a little bar on the edges of the festival grounds, a drink already downed and another in his hand. Megatron sighed as they approached, he had feared that this was how the night was going to end.

“Megs!” Rodimus said cheerfully in greeting when he saw them, “Have you met Swerve, he owns a bar now! Don’t you Swerve?”

The little red mini in question grinned at them from behind the bar, albeit looking a little uncomfortable by Megatron’s presence.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Megatron said, slightly unsure of how to proceed. He had intended to try and reassure Rodimus about the situation but the speedster’s demeanor suggested that he was intending to just ignore what happened. So Megatron looked to Thunderclash, who had a soft determination on his face.

“Hey Swerve, can you get a mid-grade for me… From the back? You know the one I like.” Thunderclash said with a wink to Swerve.

“You got it boss, anything for you…uh, Megatron?” Swerve said, most likely tossing in the question at the end more out of obligation than kindness.

“No, thank you.” Megatron said stiffly before taking a seat beside Rodimus to his left as Thunderclash did the same on his right.

No one spoke as the silence was punctuated only by the backdrop of gossiping voices in the bar. Rodimus’ bravado dropped a little but the red mech simply stared down at his cube, his lip plates pursed tightly. Minutes passed and Megatron thought maybe he was more far gone than they initially thought. He was only one drink in though, and he could have sworn that Rodimus had a better tolerance than that. On the other hand, he could smell the strength of the engex from where he sat and that was a statement.

“Sorry I ran off like that.” Rodimus said at last.

“It was an accident,” Thunderclash said quietly, cutting right to the point, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed.”

Rodimus half scoffed, half laughed, and his plating flared in irritation, “Easy for you to say. Bots think the world of _you_.”

Megatron was a little shocked by the amount of venom that statement held. He looked at Thunderclash again, who seemed unfazed by the jab for the most part.

“Trailcutter’s words weren’t meant for you, Rodimus. He was trying to start a fight with me.” Megatron interjected.

“And I retaliated,” Rodimus groaned in exasperation, “Which I shouldn’t have done.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t take back what’s happened, you can only make peace with yourself and move on from it.” Megatron said.

“And apologize,” Thunderclash added, “If you want to be forgiven and to salvage what’s been done, you’ll need to apologize.”

Rodimus took a deep vent which he released as his plating settled to lie flat to his frame again, “You’re right… I’m sorry that I made this night take such a terrible turn.” The speedster suddenly looked very tired.

“It’s not you’re fault, things like this happen. If you want, we can keep going, we’ll just stay away from the pavilion.” Thunderclash said joyfully while shooting a look at Megatron which he took to be a prompt to say something.

But Megatron didn’t know what to say. He wanted Rodimus to go back to being happy, to be that bot who had won his friend a gift and danced when he finally scored at the dunk tank. But he wasn’t sure what to say that would help. His processor was stalling and it didn’t help that Thunderclash’s optics were staring right at him. 

He fumbled his words for a moment before, “How about we just leave, go for a walk in the city. It’ll be much quieter.”

Rodimus swiveled his cube in his hand for a beat, “You know that’s not a half bad idea. I’m pretty much done for the night anyway… And there’s always 3 more days of the festival if I feel like coming back.” Rodimus’s smile returned, it’s intensity dim but still there.

Megatron released a vent he didn’t know he was holding as they paid Rodimus’ tab. Though heprobably didn’t invent again until they were outside of the festival grounds. It had been a very long time, he realized, since he had gone out to such a gathering. Especially a gathering that didn’t result in at least _some_ political warfare. As refreshing as it was, he doubt he would become a repeat offender, seeing as this outing was shortly becoming a drag. But he didn’t want Rodimus to see it that way. Rodimus deserved to have fun and live carefree, which was something that was always going to be hard with Megatron around.

He sighed, falling a bit behind as they walked, “Not to fall into the trap of small talk but since the topics of the evening are exhausted, is everything going aright at work?” He said, trying to drum up any sort of conversation to break the gloomy silence.

“Yes, actually we’re pretty confident that we’re about to get our approval next week.” Thunderclash said boisterously, though when Megatron looked to Rodimus the red mech wouldn’t meet his optic.

“Approval?” He asked, not really knowing what Rodimus was working on these days.

“Yes, for our venture to the colonies, we’ve mapped out our flight plan and Ultra Magnus just has to give the word and we can start looking for funding.” The colorful mech continued not realizing the shock that Megatron was suddenly feeling.

His optics blinked rapidly and he once again felt his words fail him, “To the colonies?” Was all he managed to get out as he barely kept his voice level. Rodimus was planning on _leaving_?

“Though we still haven’t found a ship yet, of course it’ll also be months before we can even get off the ground for a proper flight test anyway…” Thunderclash trailed off as he looked between him and Rodimus, “He didn’t tell you?”

Rodimus turned to face them finally, a sheepish smile on his features, “It uh, it must have slipped my processor.” Rodimus chuckled airily and Megatron narrowed his optics at him a little.

“And you two will be going to the colonies… Together?” Megatron asked, raising a brow and looking from Rodimus to Thunderclash with a smooth sweep of his optics.

“Uh, well… yes, I do believe that was the idea.” Thunderclash said.

“Hm,” Megatron shook off his shock, fighting the feeling with morbid curiosity instead, “So who’s going to be the captain?”

“I am.” Rang two confident and opposing voices.

Megatron snorted a little as the two looked at each other, equally surprised, “You may want to sort that out before you get a ship.”

For the rest of the evening Rodimus was nervously hovering around Megatron. Probably waiting for him to confront him about leaving but Megatron decided to leave it be for the time being. He needed time to process anyway. After having such an enjoyable evening the previous night, he had forgotten that Rodimus and him weren’t really a couple. The speedster had his of life he was living, a life that didn’t intend on involving Megatron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh this chapter fought with me so much. I still don't like it very much but maybe I'm being overly critical of my work. I just feel like this is dragging at a snails pace and I want it to speed up. I have much more exciting things in store I just need to get to them DX


	20. Follow Your Own Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End of Act 1

_Hot Rod presses down on the wound that is bleeding profusely. His hands are covered in energon, it’s tracked all the way to his knees and he’s just kneeling in it._

_It’s bright and his optics won’t focus on anything in front of him. His left audial won’t reboot and he can’t stop the bleeding._

_He can hear them behind him and he knows what comes next._

_Hot Rod can’t give up, he can’t fail again._

_But he can’t get the bleeding to stop._

* * *

Rodimus yawned tiredly. 

He didn’t sleep well last night. The nightmares returned in full force and his tanks rolled with nausea from the moment he opened his optics that morning. So, in an effort to just forget about the particularly vivid dream that haunted him, he decided to message Drift. But the speedster was apparently still preoccupied.

Rodimus was starting to worry a little. Sure, when Rodimus disappears without messaging back it’s liable for him getting his aft kicked, but when Drift does it he can’t do anything about it. Not unless he wants to storm down to Drift’s place and possibly see something _he really doesn’t want to_.

Rodimus growled and chucked his personal data pad to the other end of the couch, watching it bounce across the stiff pillows with disinterest.

“Still no response?”

Rodimus looked up at Megatron who was sipping his morning energon and reading the news on a data pad. The silver mech had been very quiet since last night. Rodimus knew why and he was a little afraid of when the other pede was going to drop.

“Nope.” Rodimus said plainly.

“Hm.” Megatron hummed before taking another sip.

Rodimus twitched. He had been afraid of telling Megatron about what he was working on with Thunderclash for this exact reason. He didn’t want Megatron to think he was just using it as an excuse to get away from him, because that really wasn’t it at all. If he could, he would take Megatron with them but Megatron couldn’t leave Cybertron. The damn treaty that forced them together in the first place was also what would keep them apart it seemed. 

Rodimus didn’t want to leave forever of course, he’d only be gone a few months. He just needed to get off this planet so he could vent freely for once, if everyone else on Cybertron was doing it then why couldn’t he? But he could see how Megatron was probably interpreting his actions. He just didn’t know how to explain himself. He didn’t know before and he sure as Pit didn’t know _now_. At this point though, he could no longer take the silence. It was almost _crushing_ , waiting for Megatron to finally get mad at him.

“Megatron,” Rodimus said, biting his cheek, “I want you to know I wasn’t going to just leave without telling you at all.”

The silver mech’s red optics shut in what might have been frustration, “I’m not angry Rodimus, you’re allowed to live your own life. And though I would have appreciated knowing so not to look like such a fool in front of your co-worker, I don’t have to be privy to every aspect of your life.”

Rodimus blinked his optics at him, not expecting that response, “Uhhh… Sure, okay, but I was going to tell you, I just needed to find the right time.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Megatron said stiffly, going back to his data pad.

Rodimus blinked is optics, confused and a little hurt at being brushed off, “Wait, you’re not mad at me like… _at_ _all_?”

“I am not.” Megatron turned away from him. 

Rodimus, refusing to let it go, rounded the counter to come and stare pointedly at him, “You’re full of slag, of course you’re mad at me.”

“I told you, I’m not.” Megatron said again, blandly. He wasn’t looking at Rodimus, which stung in ways he couldn’t describe.

“You know what, fine.” Rodimus threw his hands up and stormed over to the couch to pick up his personal data pad, relieved to see that he got a response from Drift at long last, “I’m going out to see Drift, don’t wait up for me.”

He tried not to stomp as he left, or slam any door panels, nothing to give Megatron the satisfaction of getting under his plating.

* * *

Arriving at Drift’s, Rodimus took a deep vent as he walked down the short flight of steps to the partially underground apartment. He silently prayed that Ratchet had work today, though he probably didn’t have to, there was a very good chance of that anyway. The medic hardly ever took a day for himself. He punched in Drift’s code and shut his optics before stepping into the apartment.

“Please tell me you’re decent in here!” He called playfully before opening a single optic to look around the room.

He was a little confused when he didn’t get a response and he turned in place for a moment before he spotted Drift sitting on the floor by his altar. Not praying, no, he was slumped against it instead with a look of pure melancholy on his face. Rodimus grimaced as he approached and took a seat next to him.

“I’m sensing some tension here.” Rodimus said, prodding Drift with a light shoulder nudge.

“Am I just a joke?” Drift asked, voice completely serious, “Is everything that I do… meaningless?”

Rodimus frowned, “Okay, back up a little, who gave you that idea?”

Drift looked away a little, “Ratchet.”

“What? That doesn’t sound like Ratch,” Rodimus said, noting that Drift still wouldn’t look at him, “What happened Drift? Also I’ll punch his headlights out if you need me to.”

Drift let out a puff of air that might have been an aborted laugh, “We were walking and talking… And everything was fine. Then…” Drift winced.

Rodimus stayed silent but put a hand on his amica’s shoulder.

“Then we walked by the memorial. There was a shrine set up for offerings and I asked him if he wanted to sit with me.”

“Oh.” Rodimus knew what happened now. Maybe not all the details, but he knew Ratchet well enough to know that the medic was extremely atheist. Sometimes brazenly so and without remorse.

“At first he was just quiet but when I told a couple mechs about the spectralist faith he practically laughed at me. Right in front of other the bots…” Drift trailed off for a moment and Rodimus felt his own spark ache as the bond reacted to the pain his amica was feeling. Hurt intermingled with betrayal stung at him and Rodimus wrapped his arms around Drift.

“I got angry with him Roddy. We ended up shouting at each other…” Drift let out a shuddering sigh.

“You aren’t a joke Drift. Ratchet didn’t mean what he said I’m sure, he’s just stubborn and old. It has nothing to do with how he feels about you.” Rodimus insisted as he held onto a stiff Drift in his arms. The white speedster let out a humorless laugh.

“It’s funny, I don’t even remember what he said that started the argument. I just remember my reaction…” Drift paused again before continuing quietly, “My religion is the only way I can make peace with what I’ve done. Ratchet just doesn’t seem to understand that, moreover he refuses to see my relationship with Primus as anything more than a fantasy.” 

Rodimus could hear Drift grit his dentae together, “I just don’t know how to make him see that this isn’t some joke to me.”

Rodimus felt helpless as he watched Drift shake with frustration. He laid his helm against his amica’s, feeling the bond between them fraught with tension. He didn’t often notice the bond because they were usually so in sync with one another but now it was frayed and filled with Drift’s distress and pain. Rodimus did his best to fill with with as much reassurance as he could and waited patiently for Drift to calm himself. No tears fell, because Drift didn’t cry. Rodimus wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Drift cry from sadness, happy tears were plentiful but it was perhaps as if he didn’t have any tears left to waste on being sad.

“Roddy I don’t know if the two of us can even last after this.” Drift said quietly, “We barely made it two weeks.”

“Don’t say that, you guys are working out all the wrinkles but once you do I know you two can make it,” Rodimus said almost forcefully, “If you two can’t then there’s no hope for the rest of us.” He joked lightly.

“Roddy, we both know that I love him but it’s very likely he doesn’t love me,” Drift said sounding very far away, “He was just humoring me for our relationship so he could get a little ‘facing in.”

“Don’t Drift, don’t think that way, Ratchet isn’t like that. I know he has to feel something for you,” Rodimus insisted, squeezing his amica harder, “Maybe he hasn’t figured it out yet but he does. Also, Ratchet’s party days are way, _way_ past him and he wouldn’t jeopardize his friendship with you just for that.”

“You sound so sure?” Drift’s words cracked.

“I am sure. I know Ratchet and he’s not one to mess around with someone like that so you just put that out of your mind right now.” Rodimus tried to make his voice gentler, “Two mechs don’t always see optic to optic but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for you.”

Drift didn’t say anything but the bond felt less erratic as the white speedster calmed down a little. Rodimus nuzzled him and felt Drift’s arms move to reciprocate the hug finally, his arms coming to rest weakly around his waist.

There was a long stretch of silence between them as Drift calmed.

“Roddy, there’s something else.” Drift said after a long time.

“Hm?”

“I decided I’m going to leave to find the Circle of Light.”

Rodimus reeled back, “Wait what? When did you decide this?”

Drift shrugged, “I’ve been thinking about it on and off ever since Thunderclash said he would help me build a church. But the problem is, I’m not ordained, I don’t even know where to start with something like that. So I decided to go and try to bring the Circle of Light back to Cybertron.”

Rodimus felt his jaw flap as he tried to find his words, “So you have one fight with Ratchet and you’re just going to what? Pick up and leave?” He said, unable to hide how hurt he felt.

“It’s not forever Roddy.” Drift responded tiredly, “And this isn’t about Ratchet, this is about me. I haven’t felt quite right since the war ended. I never really got closure Roddy… I just feel like my answers aren’t here, they’re out there with the Circle of Light.”

Rodimus felt like his whole being was spiraling as he tried to think of something, anything, that would make his amica stay. He couldn’t think of anything he himself could say so he made the only move he could think of.

“Then, before you leave will you just talk to Ratch? You’re always telling me to communicate with Megs, so take your own advice and talk to him,” Rodimus pleaded, “Ratchet is stubborn as Pit but that doesn’t mean he can’t be reasoned with. Tell him what you told me, tell him that your beliefs aren’t a joke.” He hoped that maybe the medic might be able to talk Drift into staying if he couldn’t.

Drift nodded his helm, “I will but I still want to go Roddy. I’m tired of feeling alone with my religion.” He said softly.

Rodimus swallowed a lump in his intake as he studied Drift’s face. He didn’t want Drift to leave, he _needed_ him. But it was clear that what Drift needed wasn’t something Rodimus could help with. Asking him to stay, pleading with him, might only be a detriment to their friendship. It made Rodimus sad that he couldn’t help his friend. And scared as well. Scared that Drift will leave and never come back. So Rodimus buried his face in Drift’s neck and held him close.

“Just promise me you’ll come back.” He said quietly.

* * *

Rodimus had a lot to think about when he finally left Drift’s place.

It really hurt, knowing his friend had to leave him. He couldn’t help feeling like it was somehow his fault despite knowing it wasn’t. He felt like he hadn’t been a good enough amica. That he had failed to be a good friend. He tried to tell himself over and over that this wasn’t his fault, that Drift was going through something and he needed his time to find a solution to it. It couldn’t be fixed by Rodimus trying to mend his relationship with Ratchet nor trying to make him stay.

Rodimus frowned at that, thinking. Wondering if maybe Megatron was feeling the same way. They were ‘together for the treaty’ in some ways. But in a lot of others, their relationship had evolved past that. Rodimus didn’t want to cause the silver mech pain by bonding too soon, and he assumed that Megatron wished the same.The two of them acted much more like real conjunx every day. Did he feel the same ache that Rodimus felt for Drift? Did he wan’t Rodimus to stay but thought it wasn’t his place to ask? Was he just acting like he wasn’t upset? Before now, he felt angry that Megatron was acting so aloof to the thought of him leaving. But now he thought maybe it all made sense.

Rodimus sighed in aggravation at himself. He’d been acting so selfish lately. He completely missed the fact that Drift was unhappy. Who knows what else he had been missing while being so self-centered. Next, Thunderclash was going to tell him that he was also a tiny mech inside a suit of armor.

Rodimus rolled his optics at himself as he punched in his code and entered his home.

Megatron was sitting on the far end of their couch, he was looking at a data pad and he jumped slightly at the sight of Rodimus before putting the data pad face down on the table.

“I didn’t expect you home so soon.” The silver mech said coolly.

Rodimus hesitated in the doorway for a moment before steeling himself. After shutting the door, he walked to the couch and sat down just out of arms reach from the big mech, slouching and staring at the wall.

“Drift is leaving. He had me come over so he could tell me.” He said, purposefully leaving out the fight with Ratchet, he doubted Drift would appreciate Rodimus talking about that with Megatron of all mechs.

“Oh.”

The silence after that statement was deafening. Rodimus looked over at Megatron. The silver mech looked agitated, kind of like he did when Starscream called. Work was probably bothering him again.

“It got me thinking,” Rodimus started softly, “You say that you’re not mad at me and I’m not one to tell you that you should or shouldn’t be…”

Megatron’s optics trained on him now, his expression unreadable.

“I just know what I did wasn’t right, that’s why I’m angry. I’m angry with myself for being… a piece of slag.” Rodimus continued, starting to ramble, “I didn’t know how to tell you without you thinking I was running off, which I’m not by the way… I just wanted to… To see the stars again.”

He took a deep vent to slow himself, “A-Anyways, I’m sorry. Can you… Can you please just talk to me?”

Megatron’s face looked a little guilty all of a sudden, “Rodimus it’s not your fault. Like I said, I don’t have to be a part of your life if you don’t want me to. But yes, I was lying when I said I wasn’t upset. It hurt to just have that suddenly put upon me by a stranger.”

Rodimus sat up and moved closer in one swift movement, “And I’m so, so sorry about that. I didn’t think… well I guess I just didn’t _think_.” He chuckled awkwardly when he realized that he really should have predicted that work would come up at some point when Thunderclash decided to stay with them yesterday.

Megatron’s face melted into a half smile, “I would say that I’m surprised but I’m really not.”

Rodimus looked down as he laughed, “Yeah… And—uh, if it comes down to it, if we aren’t bonded by the time the trip comes around, I won’t go.” he said adamantly.

“Rodimus you don’t need to—”

“Yes I do,” Rodimus looked up before reaching over and taking ahold of Megatron’s hand, “Because I owe you that much for putting up with me.” He chuckled.

Megatron squeezed his hand back,“Hm. I guess we better get a move on then. Or else you’ll miss your chance to see the stars again.”

* * *

Megatron watched Rodimus retreat to his room after their conversation, though he stayed in place after telling the speedster he needed to finish some work. The speedster turned back for a moment.

“By the way, I do want you to…” Rodimus said with a smile.

Megatron arched a brow, confused, “Want me to?”

“Be a part of my life.” Rodimus clarified with an almost mischievous grin. 

With that, Rodimus disappeared down the hall. Despite himself, Megatron felt part of his spark follow him.

Anxiously, he pulled his optics towards the discarded data pad where it was still laying face down on their table. His jaw set itself as he swallowed. He reached for slowly, half wanting it to disappear or combust. Anything to be rid of it. He pulled it up to look at the recent message he had gotten. No items attached nor a full message on the body. Just a notification that had gotten his attention with the words:

_::Your days are numbered, Lord Megatron.::_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the many people who reached out to help me with this story on tumblr. I finally made a decision on what to do and it's rekindled the fire I had to write this fic. That being said, next week I'm probably going to take off because I have some stuff going on but I might end up posting if I feel like it 😋


	21. Ignition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron goes to Soundwave for help. Rodimus is coping.

The rest of the long weekend went by uneventfully. Rodimus kept being awoken by his nightmares so he kept having to sleep in to make up for the hours he spent wandering around the living area, waiting for recharge to come back to him. The dreams hadn’t been this bad in a long while. It was as if he was anticipating something bad happening. He wasn’t sure what it could be but he hoped that it either showed itself or went away for his sanity’s sake.

It didn’t help that Drift left a lot sooner than expected. He thought maybe that his amica would take a week, maybe two if he was lucky, to get his plans in order. But as it would turn out, Tyrest had been looking to send a bot to look for the Circle of Light and expedited Drift’s trip within a day and a half. Thankfully the white speedster had invited Rodimus down to say goodbye before he took off.

“The sooner I go, the sooner I get back,” Drift said, hugging him close, “It won’t take me long, I have a good idea as to where Dai Atlas took them.”

Rodimus tried to put on a supportive smile, “Just don’t give him any more reason to want to kick your aft.”

“That’ll be a hard one,” Drift laughed, “And uh… Ratchet said he’d wait for me… But tell him he doesn’t have to if he… If he finds someone else.”

“I’m not doing that Drift,” Rodimus shook his helm, “You’re going to come back and Ratchet’s going to be here for you.” He said, convincing himself more than his amica.

“Thanks Roddy.” 

Drift left him with a kiss to his forehelm and a promise that he would return. And after the pain of him leaving, Rodimus wanted nothing more than a quiet evening that would lead into a quiet day back at work.

* * *

Megatron paced his room as Soundwave worked at his makeshift setup on his computer.

He had called the mech shortly after receiving the threat in his messages, under the guise of needed advice on his work just in case someone was snooping on his private calls as well. He was hoping beyond all that Soundwave would be able to find out who the perpetrator was. As the time grew on however, he was beginning to lose hope.

Finally, Soundwave released a sigh, “I apologize for taking so long, but it would seem that the menace who sent that message was very good at covering their tracks.”

“Is that a way of telling me you didn’t get anything?” Megatron growled.

Soundwave shook his helm sadly, “I did not.”

Megatron released a vent through his nose as he leaned on his berth, “I didn’t mean to snap at you, Soundwave. I know you’re doing all that you can.”

“I understand your frustration sir, this is a less than ideal situation.” Soundwave spoke slowly, “With my limited resources I cannot find your foe, but there might be someone who can.”

“Who? Shockwave? He’s been off planet for awhile now, who knows when he’s coming back.” Megatron huffed, “And I’d rather leap off the top of the senate building before trusting some _autobot_ scientist.”

“Not an autobot, not Shockwave. One who has… expertise in this area.” Soundwave’s pause set Megatron on edge.

“Who?” Megatron raised a brow ridge at the blue mech.

“Starscream has quite the amount of experience in subterfuge…”

Megatron barked a laugh, “You want me to take this to Starscream? The mech might just laugh me out the door! He’d be happy to finally be rid of me!”

Megatron’s mirth died as he realized that Soundwave seemed to be perfectly serious.

“Starscream owes Megatron a debt.” Soundwave reminded him, “He will help you.”

Megatron cringed, “E-Even if he would, how am I supposed to even talk to him discreetly when he lives on the other side of the planet?”

“Vos has had troubling budgeting for new buildings. It may require a visit from the Chief Overseer to make sure they remain on budget.” Soundwave offered.

Megatron chewed on his cheek as he mulled over his answer, “I… I can’t leave right now.”

Soundwave cocked his helm to the side, “For what reason?”

Megatron sighed again, “Rodimus has been having nightmares again. I heard him the other night… I just don’t want him to be alone right now.”

The first time Megatron had noticed the dreams had been only a week into their cohabitation. Rodimus had fallen asleep on the couch and Megatron heard him cry out. When he came to see what was going on Rodimus was wandering around their kitchen, claiming that he had been watching something scary and couldn’t sleep. He’d laughed it off and so Megatron didn’t confront him about it. He figured that someone like Rodimus would only be having nightmares about their worst atrocities and, knowing what he knew about Nyon, he decided not to push the matter. He thought Rodimus would tell him when the time was right. 

Months passed and the frequency in which he found the speedster awoken in the night came and went. Now it seemed to have picked up again and Megatron was finding it difficult to not ask him about it. He wanted to be able to comfort Rodimus but he didn’t want to haphazardly bring up Nyon if he didn’t want to talk about it. Even now the city lay in ruins, a gaping hole on the surface of the planet.

As Chief Overseer of Cybertron’s restoration, Megatron had hoped to one day have it completely restored so that he might be able to show it to Rodimus. Hoping beyond all hope that it would ease the pain he knew the speedster felt. Rebuilding it had been met with quite a bit of misfortune however, as the explosion had left behind a toxic waste that was proving very hard, and not to mention _expensive_ , to remove. Megatron was repeatedly told it was a lost cause and to focus his efforts elsewhere.

“Do you fear for the Prime’s safety?” Soundwave asked, breaking his thought process abruptly.

Suddenly he wasn’t standing in his own room, he was in a medical tent. The abrasive smell of antiseptic, oil and energon filling his olfactory. Soundwave had asked him the same question for a different reason. For a different Prime. Megatron mumbled his response back, the words tainting his mouth with regret. 

He should have been with him. He shouldn’t have let him go alone…

“Sir?” 

Megatron snapped back to attention, shaking his helm, “I’ll take it into consideration Soundwave but for now… Perhaps we should treat this as an empty threat. I see no reason why my life could be in danger. If anything changes then I might take your advice and… go see Starscream.” Megatron grimaced at his last words.

Soundwave nodded and stood from his seat at the desk, “Are you going to inform Rodimus of the threat?”

Megatron chewed his derma, “I don’t want to further upset him. If this leads anywhere he’ll be the first to know but for now… I think it’s best not to worry him."

* * *

Rodimus stared out the window of his office.

He should be working but his mind was too preoccupied with being dejected for him to care. He missed Drift. It pained him even more that his knee-jerk reaction to his loneliness was to call his amica. Which, even if he could, Drift would probably have scolded him for.

_I haven’t even been gone 24 hours and you already miss me?_ He’d say before giving him a cheeky smile.

Rodimus let out another sigh, perhaps the 15th one since he’d started his day. He heard a gentle knock at his door and he zoned out for a few moments before finally asking them to come in. He spun in his chair and tried to look presentable or busy until his optics took in the sight of Thunderclash, looking apologetic as he always tended to be when he came knocking on his door.

“I’m not interrupting am I?” He asked, cheerful enough but it still rubbed Rodimus the wrong way.

“No, and for future reference, never.” He said, trying to sound inviting but unable to mask the annoyance in his tone.

Thunderclash slowed his approach until he was standing behind the chair in front of the desk, “Is everything all right?”

Rodimus chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to find the words.

“If this is about what I said at the festival, I am dreadfully sorry and I hope you can accept my apology. I didn’t realize that you hadn’t told your conjunx about our project and I let my excitement about it get the better of my decorum.” 

Rodimus looked up at the big bot in surprise, “What? No, that’s—I’m not upset about that… Drift left yesterday. He decided to go and find the Circle of Light.” Rodimus elaborated when the big mech looked confused.

“Oh,” Thunderclash said as he moved to sit down in front of Rodimus, “And he left already? That quickly?”

“Yeah. ‘Sooner I’m gone, the sooner I’m back’ sort of thing.” Rodimus slouched forward until his chin rested on the desk, “Needless to say I’m not taking it very well. Which is weird. I thought I’d be fine but I guess I didn’t realized how much I… how much I depended on him being here.”

“Sounds like you two were inseparable.” Thunderclash commented, which Rodimus smiled at.

“Yeah, I guess. He’s the only bot who can stand me these days.” Rodimus chuckled, looking up at Thunderclash’s pensive red optics, “Well maybe not the only one.”

“I would argue that there are a lot of mechs who are very fond of you Rodimus. You just need to know where to look.” Thunderclash smiled at him warmly.

“Like who?” Rodimus scoffed, “Most of them have moved back to Earth I think.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” Thunderclash laughed, “If I’m only going to name those still on Cybertron then I’d say, not including myself: Ultra Magnus, Ratchet, Kup, Springer—”

“Springer’s on assignment, swing and a miss big guy.” Rodimus chided sarcastically.

“Alright but that’s still three and that’s not including your conjunx or Swerve, or your friend—what was his name— Pipes! He likes you a lot from what I understand, mostly having to do with his gratitude at being able to come along with our mission.” Thunderclash said.

“You’ve talked with him?” Rodimus raised a brow ridge.

“He came to me actually, I guess he was nervous so I gave him the mission statement and told him about what he could expect. And I had Riptide go over all of our safety measurements that we’re implementing. By the end of it he seemed twice as enthusiastic as when he first came in.” Thunderclash’s jovial smile was ironic to Rodimus considering the speedster knew Riptide and he was sure that Pipes was enthusiastic in more ways than one.

“Riptide’s coming along too?” Rodimus asked with feigned interest.

“Yes, much like everyone else on this rock it seems, he’s bored. Wants to adventure before he settles down or anything.” Thunderclash’s posture relaxed a little and Rodimus did as well, not realizing just how tense he had been before.

“So uh, why did you come down here anyway? Shouldn’t you be busy?”

“Ah well, other than to give my apology for running my intake around your conjunx, which I am truly very sorry for that—”

“Thunders, Thunders! It’s okay, I’m really not mad,” There was that word again though, Rodimus narrowed his optics at the colorful bot, “But you know, I think you’re one of the very few bots I know that calls him my conjunx.” Rodimus pointed out.

Thunderclash stiffened, “Oh, is that bad?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just a little weird I guess,” Rodimus said quickly, “I think most people don’t think of us as a couple really.”

“Oh,” Thunderclash said quietly, Rodimus noted that he fidgeted with his fingers, “Do… Do _you_ think of your relationship that way?”

Rodimus thought for a moment, “Well… Megatron and I are thinking about repainting our living space. That’s something that couples do right?” He laughed sheepishly. 

“I suppose so.” Thunderclash agreed.

“But,” Rodimus interjected, acting on a sudden mournful feeling, “I don’t know if Megatron and I will ever really be… together that way. We’re partners and… we care for each other. But I’m not sure if we’ll ever be a real couple.”

Rodimus let out a vent, feeling strangely lighter. He looked at Thunderclash who was looking at him sadly.

“If you want my opinion,” Thunderclash began softly, “I think you two already have the most important parts of being a couple. Caring for each other and sticking by one another’s side… those are the hardest things to accomplish. The fact that you have that already then, well, the rest is really up to you.”

Rodimus fidgeted with the corners of his desk, feeling torn. He knew that asking advice about one of his _mutual interest parties_ to the other wasn’t really a good idea. He still had a ton of doubts about both of the mechs. And either one he chose, it likely wouldn’t be a stereotypical courtship. He and Megatron have only been on the same side for a few years, and Thunderclash he’d only been friends with for a couple _weeks_. No matter how he weighed it, he felt like he just couldn’t see any possible outcome working out.

But maybe Thunderclash was right. Maybe Megatron was the right choice simply because they already fit together. Sure maybe it would be awkward and perhaps a few of his friends might not forgive him for courting _Megatron_ of all mechs. But he would already be his conjunx so it wouldn’t be _that_ weird. Meanwhile dating Thunderclash while already being conjunxed to Megatron certainly would be. And what if he wanted to bond with Thunderclash? What if he wanted to marry the colorful mech somewhere down the line of their relationship? Was that even _allowed_?

Rodimus suddenly sensed the silence had become awkward and he cleared his intake.

“Uh anyway, before we got off on our tangent you said there was something else you came here for?” Rodimus said, trying to laugh off the awkwardness.

Thunderclash lit up, “Oh right!”

The big mech fumbled something from his subspace. He produced a small data pad and clicked it on before offering it over to him with that handsome grin on his face.

“I was coming down to share the news: our mission is approved!”

Rodimus felt his optics go wide and he was out of his seat and taking the data pad from him in an instant.

“Thunders that’s great news! Why didn’t you lead with that?!” Rodimus exclaimed as he skimmed over the document signed by Ultra Magnus and Jetfire, Cybertron’s new Aerospace Commander, “And funded?! Whose the benefactor?”

“One of the Senators you told me about last week, I sent him the mission statement and he apparently went down to Ultra Magnus’ office himself.” Thunderclash said, sounding slightly incredulous, “He’s apparently _loaded_.”

“Wait, wait, what’s this bit here: ‘conditional’?” Rodimus looked up at Thunderclash who’s smile shrank a bit.

“That’s the only drawback— but don’t worry we knew this was a possibility. It just means that we, obviously, have to meet a few conditions in order to ensure our launch.” Thunderclash said as he came to stand over his shoulder to point at certain lines on the data pad. 

Rodimus was only half listening from that point on as he felt his core temperature rising and he had to focus on keeping his vents from opening up to cool him off. Afraid that Thunderclash might accidentally feel the warmth and get the wrong idea…

“Our crew needs to be up to standard of the Aerospace Command and our ship will be inspected to make sure it’s within guidelines for a peace mission like ours. It’s not all that bad really. We still need to find our ship of course but I have a friend who might be able to help with that.” Thunderclash continued enthusiastically.

Rodimus pivoted his body, thinking maybe if he could _see_ the colorful mech he might not feel so tense. Decidedly, it was a bad idea. He bit down on his cheek, hard, to ground himself as he was met with the full force of Thunderclash’s unadulterated joy. He could feel the colorful mech’s passion radiating off him in waves as he talked. The mech’s EM field, which was usuallywithdrawn, pulsed vibrantly. Rodimus couldn’t help but feel excitement mounting in his own spark. It was really happening. He was going to go on a mission, back into space and away from his stupid desk and all the stupid _rules_.

“Oh and I should mention that Senator Cyclonus wanted to accompany us on our trip as well. It’s basically one of the conditions but thankfully the only condition he’s made himself.”

Rodimus nodded absentmindedly, “Right… Wait, Cyclonus? You mean that dreary mech whose always hanging around the Cybertron Restoration offices?”

“The one and only, that’s not a problem is it?” Thunderclash tilted his helm at him.

“No, well not for me. Megatron hates him,” Rodimus laughed, “He keeps bothering him about _architecture_ and telling him he’s ‘not doing it correctly’. I swear I thought Megs was going to throw his data pad through a window if Ultra Magnus didn’t have all his messages redirected.”

“And you’re sure that it’s not going to be a problem?” 

“Nah, if anything Megs will be relieved that he’s _leaving_.” Rodimus chortled at the thought and he couldn’t wait to tell the silver mech the news.

He looked up at Thunderclash, the big mech was still so close to him it was hard to vent. The colorful mech’s expression was so strange, he felt like he knew that look but he couldn’t quite place what it was. And Rodimus was struck with a sudden urge that he didn’t fight.

“Thank you again Thunderclash, for letting me be a part of this. I wish there was a way I could repay you.” Rodimus said.

“Oh don’t mention it… It’s nice, having a partner that is.” Thunderclash’s warm smile was nearly intoxicating at this point but Rodimus luckily remembered something that grounded him again and he had enough sense of self to narrow his optic playfully at the big mech.

“So… who is going to be captain then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post. I had a lot of things happening all at once last week and I just got overwhelmed DX I hope yall are buckled in because from here on we're in act 2 and things are about to heat up big time lol it's time for some god damn ROMANCE. Oh and there's the whole ominous threat subplot but we'll get to that later.


	22. Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron and Rodimus pick some paint for their living room. Rodimus makes a sleep deprived decision.

“I think it’s too dark.”

“Of course you do. You’d rather it be _pink_.”

“It’s called ‘hot rod red’, look it up sometime.”

Megatron scowled at Rodimus, looking away from his burgundy paint swatch, “We are not repainting the room to match you.”

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun! Everyday you can come home and play ‘find Rodimus in the living room’!” The speedster chimed from his seat at the table, where he had been ever since he had gotten home that evening.

Megatron had been happy that Rodimus had been in high spirits after work, celebrating that his and Thunderclash’s project had been funded, but now he found himself rolling his optics. Something he did more and more of lately, a habit he was picking up from a certain red speedster who shall remain nameless. Much more, he was relieved that the speedster was being more open with him about the project in general. Where they were going, how long they expected the trip to be, and he honestly felt foolish for reacting the way he did. After all, 3 to 6 months wasn’t all that long in the grand scheme of things. And the two still had weeks worth of preparation to get through beforehand.

“I hope you’re not serious.” He said.

“Ok so maybe not _everyday_.”

“Rodimus.”

“I’m kidding Megs, lighten up. Lighten that color too while you’re at it.”

The two of them were practicing being domestic and decided that their living quarters required some 'glamour paint’ as Rodimus put it. Said speedster was hardly doing a finger to help though, sitting at their table, drawing away at his personal data pad and chewing on a rust stick. Megatron had seen him drawing from time to time a lot but lately he had started doing it more and more. Curious, Megatron sidled up to him and peeked over his shoulder. He caught just a glimpse of a rather intricate design before the data pad was scooped up to Rodimus’ chestplates.

“Excuse me!” Rodimus said, sounding indignant.

“What are you working on?”

“Nothing.” Rodimus was suddenly clammed up, his lax posture had gone rigid and he pulled away from Megatron.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. Can I see?”

Rodimus stuck out his lip in a pout and crossed his arms around the data pad protectively, “I’m not finished with it.”

“Oh,” Megatron suddenly understood his sudden chagrin, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have peeked. Can I see it when you’re ready to show it?”

Rodimus quirked a brow at him, “Maybe.”

Megatron sat across from the speedster, “I feel bad that I’ve never asked before but when did you first start drawing?”

The speedster looked down at the doodle pad in his hands somewhat coyly, “I’ve sort of always have. There were years where I never drew a thing. Then I’d pick it back up again. Rinse and repeat.”

Megatron nodded but noted to himself that Rodimus avoided directly answering his question. Something he assumed meant it had to do with Nyon, so he pressed no further. 

“You know, as part of my job I was asked to restore the old Iaconian museum. The reopening is supposed to be this week end and I have to go as part of the ceremony… Would you like to come?” Megatron swallowed slightly, “You could keep me company while the bureaucrats talk out of their tailpipes.”

Rodimus tapped his light pen to his lip, “Sure thing, sounds fun. They usually have free sweets and stuff right?” The speedster gave him a grin.

“How your body is still holding up after eating so many rust sticks I’ll never know.” He chuckled. Inwardly, he was relieved that Rodimus said yes. He was really trying to actively spend time with Rodimus instead of just being at home with him. In hopes that it would make their relationship feel more real.

A relationship feeling real, though, was far from a real relationship.

* * *

Rodimus propped himself up with one arm and tried to keep himself awake.

His dreams were getting worse. He was getting only the minimum amount of recharge at night, which was never enough for him to begin with. He thanked the stars above that the week end was coming so he could sleep in… Then he remembered the museum opening and he cursed.

Rodimus was halfway to dozing off completely when his comm rang, shocking him from his stupor. He didn’t even have to look to know who it was that was calling him. It was undoubtably Tyrest asking him where he was when they were supposed to be in their weekly meeting. 

As much of the teachings of Primes had been lost, so too had most of the teachers. All of the few that were left resided within the Circle of Light, which wasn’t much help when they were in hiding. So Tyrest had taken it upon himself to teach Rodimus about being a Prime. The only problem was he how he thought a prime should function. They were role models in his optics, they needed to be the embodiment of Cybertronian values, well-spoken, smart, and kind. ‘Primes should lead by example’ was how he put it.

The only problem was that Rodimus wasn’t that kind of mech. He was much more of a ‘do what I say not as I do’ kind of mech. He wanted to knock things over without people giving him disappointed stares. He wanted to do burnouts in his alternate mode with his friends without it leading to a lecture. He wanted to be able to do any crazy thing that popped into his processor without being judged! He just wanted to be able to live his own Primus-forsaken life!

Rodimus stood, plating flexed in irritation, and walked out of his office into the empty halls. He continued to walk until he had reached Ultra Magnus’ office before stopping at the door. He almost knocked, thinking about hiding in there for a while until Prowl eventually found him and hauled his aft off to the meeting. But he thought better of it, since Ultra Magnus was the Enforcer of the _Tyrest_ Accord. The big mech might just throw him out, any blackmail material be damned.

So he kept walking, hoping to find some way of avoiding his next meeting. Though he new that was ultimately an impossibility. At some point Prowl would come looking for him and then if Tyrest was really hacked off he’d send Ultra Magnus for him.

“Rodimus!”

Jumping at the sound of his name, Rodimus spun in place only to see Thunderclash coming towards him.

“Thank Primus, it’s just you.” Rodimus breathed a sigh of relief.

“Avoiding Prowl again?” Thunderclash asked with a sardonic smile.

“Not so far but probably, I’m trying to not have my meeting with Tyrest.” Rodimus frowned.

“Why’s that?”

“ ‘Cause that crotchety old mech keeps telling me things I already know and scolding me for things I haven’t even done yet.” Rodimus sighed in aggravation, “I just wish—“

He stopped as he heard a familiar set of pedesteps and grumbling coming his way. He looked over his shoulder and saw the edges of Prowl turn a corner and ask a bot nearby a question. Probably asking where Rodimus was. Running on pure instinct, Rodimus looked around for a place to hide. He saw the small storage closet and made a split-second decision to pull Thunderclash inside with him. He shut the door quickly without allowing himself time to adjust to his surroundings and then the room was almost pitch black. He paid no mind to it still, choosing instead to listen intently as Prowl passed by, growling about Rodimus’ paperwork and what he was going to do when he got his hands on the speedster.

When he was sure he was gone, Rodimus stifled a laugh as he looked up at Thunderclash’s dim optics.

“That was a close one!” He whispered.

“Why you choose to torture him, I fear I’ll never understand.” Thunderclash said quietly but Rodimus caught a toothy grin just barely in the darkness as his optics adjusted slowly.

Now he realized just how close the two of them were. The closet was incredibly cramped with office supplies in the first place and having the two of them in there wasn’t comfortable. Poor Thunderclash was all but hunched over as he tried not to knock anything off the shelves with his back kibble. He was so close that Rodimus could feel his venting tickle his cheek plating. His magenta optics were so round and so close to him now, like they were getting closer. 

“H-Here let me just…” Rodimus reached for the door panel but he accidentally shifted Thunderclash off balance. 

He heard Thunderclash bump the shelf behind him and the big mech must have instinctively taken a step away from it but towards Rodimus. Their noses bumped, Rodimus heard and felt the big mech gasp and start to apologize. Rodimus didn’t recoil away though. In another split second decision of impulsiveness, he lifted his chin and let his lips touch Thunderclash’s for a moment. 

He didn’t know why he did it, he barely even registered _that_ he did it. Not until he realized that his lips were still on Thunderclash’s. The big mech hadn’t moved away like he thought he would. His spark fluttered in his chest as he moved his lips experimentally and he felt Thunderclash do the same. His venting became shallow as his processor caught up with what was happening. He trembled slightly, his hand still outstretched for the door panel and wavering in indecision.

However his balance made up his mind for him as he wobbled just enough for his hand to activate the door. The two of them split from the other in shock and as they moved to get out in a panic a whole shelf decided to come out with them. Rodimus took a few steps out and looked down at the spilled office supplies in shock. He swallowed around a lump in his intake.

_What had he done? He just kissed Thunderclash! And in a closet too, how tacky!_

Before he could think too hard about it or even take a gander at the colorful mech standing just next to him, he heard stomping pedes coming towards him.

“Rodimus Prime!”

Almost leaping clean out of his plating, Rodimus whirled around to see Ultra Magnus coming down the hall towards them. He swallowed nervously, feeling Thunderclash’s presence bearing down on him from behind. 

“Oh hey Mags, how’s it goin’?” He asked, sounding far too distracted to be casual. He could only imagine how Thunderclash looked and he honestly didn’t want to.

“Prowl and I have been looking everywhere for you, why haven’t you been answering your comms? Tyrest called for a meeting nearly 20 kliks ago.” The Enforcer put his hands on his hips and stared him down before his optics shifted to just over his shoulder where Thunderclash was undoubtably standing and then to the mess on the floor.

“What happened here?” Ultra Magnus asked with a dubious look.

“Nothing!” Rodimus said quickly before moving to walk past Ultra Magnus, patting the mech on the arm, “Oh man is that the time, you know what I didn’t even realize how long we’d been, see you later Thunders! Come on Magnus don’t be a slow poke!”

And without looking back, Rodimus all but ran to his meeting.

* * *

After Thunderclash finished cleaning up the supplies from the storage closet, he immediately rushed back to his office and locked himself inside. He leaned on the door, shock keeping him in place. His dim spark was beating at the speed of light and he could do nothing but stare at the back of the room while he processed what happened over and over again.

He just kissed Rodimus.

_Error_

He just _accidentally_ kissed Rodimus.

_Error_

And… Rodimus might have kissed him _back_?

_Error_

Thunderclash shook himself from his stupor as he moved to sit at his desk.

It had all happened so fast, he had just been trying not to knock anything over and he accidentally landed his lips right on Rodimus’. What was he going to do? Rodimus didn’t seem angry but he didn’t exactly look happy either. Should he apologize when he next saw the speedster? What’s worse was how was he going to look Megatron in the optic after this!

Thunderclash collapsed forward and let his helm thunk onto the desk in despair.

He felt so conflicted. Part of him felt so guilty for kissing him even though it had been an accident and he honestly couldn’t have predicted that outcome if he had tried. But another part of him fought with it and cheered within him. It sang in happiness for getting to kiss Rodimus at all. And he knew he would subtly cherish that little kiss he got for the rest of his miserable functioning.

Thunderclash let out a heavy, pining sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually bumped this content up because it's Thunderrod week! And I hadn't gotten a kiss for them in this fic yet! :O I think it fits quite nicely in this part of the fic though, since Roddy doesn't know any gear other then full tilt anyway lol Also a little bit shorter than usual because I'm writing my fingers off for the rest of Thunderrod week!


	23. The Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus wakes up to a nasty surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rodimus is going to be having some rather graphic dreams from here on out. So watch out for the italicized section in the beginning of this chapter. It isn't super graphic but I just wanna give a heads up just in case.

_Hot Rod had had stuck his hands where they didn’t belong._

_Inside a chest cavity, energon pooling around it’s glistening center, sat the Matrix._

_It didn’t belong to him._

_But he stuck his hands where they didn’t belong._

_And ripped the Matrix out._

* * *

Rodimus bolted upright in his berth, panting hard and trying to cool his frame down which had become searing hot.

He winced as the light of dawn shown in through his window, hitting his sensitive optics, and he groaned loudly. He felt like he hadn’t gotten any rest at all last night. Nearly every night since Drift left, he had been having nightmares. Last night’s one was different though. More vivid and almost real… like he could feel the hot energon in his… 

Rodimus felt his tanks roll and he barely held back retching what little was left in them. Lubricant filled his intake and he swallowed around it harshly, keeping his processor as blank as possible to let the nausea pass. After a few moments it did and he checked the time to keep himself preoccupied. He still had 45 kliks before he had to get up, too little time to go back to recharge and too much time to just wait around doing nothing.

He let out an aggravated moan and dove face first into his pillows, shutting his optics and trying to somehow absorb rest from them despite knowing he would not be able to fall back into recharge. He thanked Primus that at least it was the week end so he had no real important duties. Maybe Megs could go to the opening of the museum without him.

That thought was thoroughly extinguished when Megatron stomped in and shook him awake.

“Hey, hey! I’m awake!” Rodimus grunted, slapping at his hands.

“You need to get up, the council has called an emergency meeting.” Megatron asked his voice deeply distressed but Rodimus was too sleepy to pick up on it properly.

He groaned loudly and pulled a pillow over his helm, “Do I _really_ need to go?”

“Rodimus, they’re calling a meeting because of the Decepticon Justice Division.”

Rodimus sat up immediately, sending his pillow flying in the process. His optics focused harshly on Megatron’s face, looking for any sign that the mech was pulling his leg. Inwardly he knew better, the silver mech didn’t joke about things like that. His tanks flipped as he immediately thought of Drift. The DJD had it out for his amica and now he wasn’t on Cybertron anymore, where he could be protected. What if Drift hadn’t made it out of the system? What if…?

“Are they here?” Was all Rodimus could bring himself to say.

“I don’t know, we’ll find out when we get there.” Megatron said offering him a hand out of berth.

Rodimus took the hand without really realizing it. Took it, and didn’t let go as they exited the apartment. He felt numb with fear. He kept trying to reach though his bond for Drift, though he knew he wouldn’t feel anything at this distance.

When they arrived at the senate building, there was a crowd outside. Seeing the flashing of the camera bots, Rodimus finally released Megatron’s hand which he realized he had been squeezing. Others were also arriving as they did. Senator MetalHawk was just walking through the crowd and Rodimus could make out the outlines of other senators inside as they grew closer. The senators weren’t usually present for this sort of matter, not ones from different cities at least. He took this to mean that the council was probably going to take this time to air out other grievances they had.

“We’re in for a long one today.” Rodimus commented quietly to Megatron, keeping his helm down as they pushed through the crowd of bots that tried in vain to get a statement from them. Rodimus knew by now that the best thing to do was to not engage with the press. Even if you thought they were on your side.

“Alright that’s enough! Disperse!” Came the thundering voice of Ultra Magnus, the two of them reached the door as the Enforcer stormed outside to deal with the camera bots.

“How did the press already know about the meeting?” Rodimus asked to Megatron over his shoulder.

“I told them.” Came a familiar, grating voice along with the tell-tale click of thruster heels on the floor.

“Starscream.” Rodimus heard Megatron grumbled under his breath.

The two of them turned to see the seeker in question standing off to the side with his companion and fellow trine mate, Skywarp. Due to some oversight, the black and purple jet had also become a Senator and everyone was convinced that Starscream was using his position for more power for himself. No one could prove it though, so the two were able to go about their business without anyone being able to stop them. No matter how morally ambiguous they seemed, at least their cities were prospering. As long as Starscream kept his greedy little talons out of the restoration budget.

“Would asking ‘why’ be a waste of my breath?” Rodimus asked the red seeker with facetious interest.

“Probably, but seeing as nearly everything you say _is_ , I’ll humor you,” Starscream said, his harsh voice lowering in tone a patronizing amount and Rodimus thought his optics might fall out of his helm if he rolled them any harder.

“Not that I’d expect you to understand, but politics is a rather like a game. If you want to win, you need to have a certain something. Be it power, money, influence, or maybe all of the above, if you have the most then no one else can compete.” Starscream explained.

“So you think befriending the press will help your campaign for ruler of Cybertron.” Megatron stated, the silver mech’s optics narrowing. Rodimus bet that if Megatron was anyone else, he too would have been rolling his optics.

“I don’t make _friends_ with anyone. They’re a ravenous pack of turbofoxes. I’m _training_ them. Leading them around by the nose, if you will. That way I’m the one they turn to in order know where to look and, more importantly, _where not to_.” Starscream’s face split wide with a mischievous grin, “But don’t you worry your pretty little faces with things like that, only important mechs really need to understand the inner machinations of our political system.”

Rodimus thought he might wipe that smug grin off the seeker’s face if not for the return of Ultra Magnus’ presence.

“Council members need to take their seats. Senators if you would please make your way to the auditorium.” Boomed the Enforcer’s voice among the throng.

Rodimus flared his plating and turned so he wouldn’t have to see the jet’s stupid face for a moment longer. When he was far enough away he elbowed Megatron.

“How did you _ever_ get along with that glitch?” He hissed so only the silver mech could hear.

Rodimus was surprised when he heard Megatron’s rumbling laugh.

“Get along? Never. But he was good at his job and in the beginning of the war, that was something I sorely needed.” Megatron’s optics took on a wistful look, “Over the years a lot of mechs have asked me why I didn’t just end up killing him when he tried to kill me and ultimately defected. The truth is that I had a strange admiration for him and I wanted to see where his ambition took him. Besides, it might have been funny if he ended up getting himself killed in the process.”

“It’s a shame he didn’t.” Rodimus grumbled.

Megatron rumble another laugh last they entered the council chambers. 

Rodimus hated this room. Meetings weren’t boring per se, but the arguing got tiresome and he’d had to sit through literal hours of mechs disagreeing over the pettiest of things. And he was sure that today, despite the initial harrowing circumstance in which they had been called for, would be no different by the end. Unless the DJD was threatening to rain fire down on them _today_ , the council would treat this like any other meeting. 

Rodimus walked to his seat, next to Tyrest and unfortunately away from Megatron, who was not a part of the council officially. He was allowed to come to meetings but was not allowed to advise unless asked and held no power or rank. Thusly the silver mech was effectively pushed to the sidelines to watch as Rodimus had to contend with the council all by himself. Which was never a simple task and always led to him feeling foolish.

Rodimus was surprised to see, in a corner of the room, a table with, mechs not on the council or senate. Some mechs Rodimus recognized too, Wreckers— Whirl, Springer and Arcee were among them. Rodimus caught optics with Springer who gave him a weak smile in hello but nothing more. He took his seat and felt even more questions filling his helm as he waited for the room to fill up. Springer had been on an assignment, did that have something to do with the DJD? What was going on? Did anyone get hurt? Why didn’t he _know_ about this?

“Thank you all for meeting in such a timely fashion,” Tyrest stood as he began, “As I’m sure you have heard, we have called this meeting in response to a specific threat to Cybertron. The entity known as the Decepticon Justice Division, a group responsible for countless deaths and incalculable damage to the wellbeing of numerous others, has been sighted not just in our quadrant but in out solar system of late.”

Rodimus felt a chill run down his spinal strut and he tensed. His worries about his amica bubbled up to the surface again and he had to resist the urge to yell his questions and get his answers. But he kept quiet, not wanting to let the entire council and the senate think he was only interested in his best friend in this matter. It wouldn’t be very ‘Prime’ of him.

“We know this because our scout teams have sent back several sighting reports from the edge of the system,” A holo-display of the solar system flashed to life and pinged red locations on the map, “After these sightings, we sent out another scout ship with our most elite military members to deal with them. Springer was among them and he will now recount his experience before the council.” Tyrest sat and Springer came forward. Rodimus wanted to say that he knew his friend well but he couldn’t for the life of him get a good read on his expression.

“Our last update had been that the Peaceful Tyranny was in orbit around a neighboring gas giant. We began our approach of the sector from the far side to keep the element of surprise. Another ship pinged their location to us, confirming that they were in place. Reports and all accounts said that the ship hadn’t moved in nearly 4 hours prior to our arrival. The engines had also been off in that time, so we thought for sure we would catch them unaware.” Springer paused his jaw working over his next words.

“We laid optics on them for only a minute at most as we approached and readied our weapons for a fight… And then they vanished.” Springer stopped and looked at Tyrest, “They just sort of… blinked out. Like a quantum jump but their engines had been off… I don’t know how to explain it.” The triple changer sounded apologetic as he shook his helm.

“Thank you Springer, you may be seated.” Tyrest stood once more, “As of right now, we have no idea where the DJD may have gone or how they pulled their little stunt but our main concern is the defense of our people. This renegade group of terrorists undoubtably intends to do harm, as per their manifesto, and we need to implement stricter aerospace accommodations to ensure that if the Peaceful Tyranny does show up, it doesn’t have an opportunity to get down to the planet. There are still blank spots where a ship could easily be hidden—”

“That’s assuming they haven’t gotten planet side already.” Sneered Starscream from the gaggle of senators, “What would be the point of increasing security if our unwanted guests are already past the front door?”

“Quiet Starscream, this isn’t the time for your commentary.” Ultra Magnus glared from where he sat on the other side of Tyrest.

“But he’s kind of right, you have to admit,” Onslaught grumbled from down the line of the council, “As Commander of Defense, we might want to rethink this strategy.”

“There’s also no proof that they have made it down to the planet,” Jetfire interjected, “The air is our first and best line of defense, we can keep a more effective optic on suspicious movements if we have more resources—specifically numbers, at our disposal.”

“But if you take those numbers from the ground defenses then we won’t be able to find the DJD if they _are_ here.” Onslaught growled, “The ground defenses are already spread as thin as it is without you strapping grounders to jets to increase your numbers.”

“Well maybe if some Seekers actually volunteered to—”

“The Seekers of Vos did their time in the military! We deserve to branch out and find our own way of life— Or are we so quick to go back to a _functionist_ regime.” Starscream growled in a low and threatening tone.

“Enough!” Ultra Magnus shouted, getting everyone’s attention, “Let Judge Tyrest finish before you all continue to puff smoke out of your intakes.”

“Thank you Ultra Magnus, as I was saying,” Tyrest cleared his intake gently, “There are spots where a ship could easily be hidden, which is why will aim to deploy groups to scout these regions frequently in order to keep an optic on them. Does that satisfy everyone?”

“Ahem, if you don’t mind me saying,” Ratchet stood from his seat next to Jetfire, “This seems like only a short term solution to our clear problem. We don’t have enough numbers to keep our planet safe anymore.”

The room was quiet as they all digested the medic’s statement. Rodimus looked down at his hands. They all knew he was right. Cybertron could host _billions_ of Cybertronians in it’s golden days and their numbers were barely over 1 _million_ right now. The planet was simply too big and their body count too small. They needed reinforcements to bolster their numbers.

“We are doing all that we can to locate more hotspots to make more sparklings Ratch,” Wheeljack chimed in, “But there just hasn’t been an energy signature for one in…”

“Millions of years,” Ratchet completed for him, “Yes, which is why I think we need to try other methods. Cold-construction—

“Was a _means to an end_ ,” Tyrest said, so loudly that it made Rodimus jump, “And we will not be discussing it further.”

“But we don’t really have much of a choice at this point!” Ratchet said angrily, “What if we never find another hotspot? What if this truly is the last of our race? There are other options Tyrest, if you would just listen—”

“I will not be responsible for bringing more Cybertronians into this world that are so far removed from the grace of Primus.” Tyrest said with a slam of his fist on the table, “To do so in the first place was negligent on our parts and we will be paying for our sins soon enough.”

Ratchet fumed, “Your helm is so far up your own—”

“Chief Medical Officer Ratchet, your point has been made, please sit down.” Tyrest said with finality.

“If I may,” Rodimus felt his voice creep out of his intake and the sudden sweep of optics to him, “There might be another solution, maybe not a permanent one but…”

Rodimus looked between Tyrest’s placid expression to Ratchet’s still seething one, “I’m sure some of you know,” He began and as he did he caught optics with Megatron and the silver bot gave him a gesture to rise. He got to his feet as he continued, “I’ve been working on a project with Thunderclash to reconnect with our colonies. This venture could be a way to bring up our numbers much more quickly. We could negotiate to bring some of their military force back with us until we can decide on a way to increase our population or perhaps find a hotspot.”

“Finally, a better proposal than sitting on our afts and waiting for _Primus_ to save us.” Ratchet said, shooting daggers with his optics at Tyrest for a moment.

“But what do we have to offer our sister colony in exchange for such a grand gesture?” Tyrest asked with a shake of his helm, “We can’t expect them to give something for _nothing_ and we don’t have much to bargain with.”

“We don’t have _anything_ to bargain with,” Senator Cyclonus spoke up from the back of the rows of senators, “But I don’t see anyone else coming up with something better. At this point we must admit ourselves to the mercy of our colonies or face extinction.”

Rodimus swallowed dryly as he looked around.

“Point taken,” Tyrest straightened himself and looked down at Rodimus, “Congratulations Rodimus Prime, your project has been promoted to a mission of peace. All those in favor of this decision, please rise.”

Rodimus felt his spark flare with pride as, save for a few, the whole room rose in agreement. He thanked them, as they all sat down, feeling victorious for once in his functioning.

“Back to the task at hand, the problem of the DJD, I do have one more thing to ask of one individual in this room,” Tyrest spoke gravely, “And that is to you, Megatron.”

Rodimus started, glancing back to Megatron who looked up at Tyrest coolly.

“Have you been in contact with your old student, Megatron?"


	24. Uneasy Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title says it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in for a LONG one today.

“That was a load of slag.” Rodimus griped, sitting sideways in the large guest chairs in Ultra Magnus’ office. 

After the meeting had adjourned, the big blue mech had invited them to have a drink and cool their helms, though Rodimus couldn’t have been cooled even if he was dropped into a lake of liquid nitrogen, “They called us down to simply say ‘Hey we don’t know if we saw these guys or not but maybe! Also Megs have you been talking to the psychopath in the mask lately?’ what the frag was that all about?”

“They’re just trying to keep us informed and let us know to be cautious. This way all of the senators know to be on the look out for suspicious activity in their cities and the Aerospace Commander can have their full support.” Ultra Magnus said matter-of-factly as he skimmed through his notes from the meeting, “You can’t boil it down so rudely, and you’re getting more backing for your project so don’t complain Rodimus.”

Rodimus glowered at Ultra Magnus, “Yeah well, it seemed more like they wanted to berate Megs in front of the council again— I mean how big is the iron rod stuck up Tyrest’s aft, accusing Megatron of being in contact with them—ugh!”

“It’s to be expected,” Megatron chimed in thoughtfully, “When you used to be the leader of a group of zealots, it’s hard for people to imagine them following anyone else.”

“It isn’t fair,” Rodimus grumbled, “It’s like asking Drift if he’s seen _Turmoil_ lately.”

“We were covering our bases,” Ultra Magnus said, “We had to be sure.”

Rodimus turned and glared at the blue mech, “Wait, you knew about this?”

“I was the one who organized the Wrecker’s mission to intercept the Peaceful Tyranny, I was debriefed on their mission and made the suggestion to see if perhaps Megatron had heard from them. It wasn’t much a stretch to think that they might have tried to contact him. I meant it only from a logical point of view.” Ultra Magnus said, looking a little apologetic at Megatron.

“I understand Ultra Magnus. In fact, I thank you for not hesitating to question me.” Megatron said.

“What?” Rodimus remarked as he raised a brow ridge at them both.

“Rodimus, people are never going to trust me. Ultra Magnus ensures that my point of view and my alibi are corroborated, this way no one can falsely accuse me of something because the right questions have been asked and I have answered them. It would be more damning and leave more chance for people to get uneasy if nothing had been said.” Megatron elaborated.

Rodimus understood but he still didn’t like it. He stood up and paced, huffing as he did and making quite a bit of noise. He always had a hard time keeping himself together when he was pent up.

“Rodimus you can head out if you’re feeling jittery.” Megatron commented, “I just wanted to have a few more words with Ultra Magnus.”

He turned to look at the silver mech, opened his mouth to make a comment about not being included in their conversation, then thought better of it, “Yeah I think I will. I’m not… feeling so good.” 

“You go on then, I won’t be too long, I’ll see you at home.” The silver mech gave him the closest thing he usually got to a smile while at work.

Rodimus shrugged, “You might be home before me then, I think I’m gonna do some laps before heading home. I haven’t moved around enough,” He stretched his arms over his helm and loosened his struts, “Being stuck inside all day isn’t good for us speed frames.”

“Stay out of trouble.” Megatron said, light-heartedly but Rodimus new he was actually quite serious.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it.” With that, Rodimus left, taking a little time to transform and burn off some of his energy that had built up from sitting around all day. All the talking and no action was seriously getting to him, especially when he didn’t know what was going on with Drift. The other speedster had warned him that he would have his communications off until after he found the Circle of Light, so as not to give away his or their positions. So likely it would be awhile still until he could speak to his amica, if Drift had made it out of the solar system at all…

Swinging a U-turn, Rodimus took a detour around the downtown, and stopped at a familiar little hole in the wall bar. One drink couldn’t hurt? He thought as he transformed back to root mode and walked in. A drink, a real one instead of the tangy energon that Ultra Magnus had, would help to calm his nerves anyway. 

He was only one step into the bar and he already regretted his decision. At the bar, which was actually well lit now and had a good number of customers inside, was Thunderclash. The colorful mech was chatting away with Swerve and hadn’t even noticed him yet. Rodimus, while remembering the kiss that he hadn’t even had time to process yet, realized he could just leave and forget this happened. Some part of him urged him forward though. It’s not like he could keep running from the big mech, especially now that he had gotten them upgraded to mission status. He might as well make the most of the situation while he could, with so many other bots around to make things less awkward. So with utmost confidence. Rodimus walked right up to the bar.

“Is this seat taken?” Rodimus asked, looking up at Thunderclash who noticed him at the last moment. Rodimus could see the strange look in his optics and the nervous flutter in the bigger mech’s field at he did his best to keep himself level.

“Rodimus! Uh, sure! I heard there was an emergency council meeting today? Everything go alright?” Thunderclash asked, the air of everyday returning with surprising ease to his voice.

“Yeah, just more old mechs bickering.” Rodimus said as he sat down, souring his expression and rolling his optics, “One good thing did come of it though.”

“O-oh? What’s that?” Thunderclash still sounded a little nervous.

“Swerve, I’m gonna need two of your strongest, me and Thunders are celebrating.” He said to the barkeep who blinked at him and then at Thunderclash.

“We are?” Thunderclash said, sounding confused. Rodimus took up his glass and raised it to Thunderclash who mirrored the action.

“Yup, we’ve officially been upgraded to Mission of Peace,” Rodimus said, making his voice as proper and stiff as he could muster, “Courtesy of Tyrest and the council needing more mech power and being spread as thin as butter!”

Thunderclash looked elated and he clinked his cube with Rodimus’, “Rodimus that’s fantastic news! But… uh, I don’t know what butter is?”

“Sorry, Earth terminology, uh—it’s like 5 bots sharing the same cube of low-grade—there’s simply just not enough to go around.” He corrected himself with a slightly embarrassed smile before taking his drink.

“Ah, makes sense… I’m guessing that the DJD has something to do with there being not enough of us, huh?” Thunderclash asked, setting his drink down, “I couldn’t help but overhear from the press.”

“Starscream’s just giving away _all_ our secrets.” Rodimus grumbled, “You didn’t hear it from me, but we might be expecting a visit from them in our future.” Rodimus then proceeded to take a large swig of his engex.

“I see.”

Rodimus put his half empty cube down and looked at the big mech, forgetting his earlier embarrassment entirely, “The whole council is losing their helms about it, mostly because so many bots are retired now and don’t want to work for the defense of the planet. After a four million year war, I can’t really say I blame them.”

“And how are you handling things?” Thunderclash’s question surprised Rodimus and he blinked at the big mech.

“Uh, well… I’m uh, ‘handling’ I guess,” Rodimus said, noncommittally, “I don’t really know what’s going to happen.”

“I was more asking about you personally, I know that the DJD has Drift on their list…” Thunderclash trailed off and Rodimus felt himself tense.

Rodimus downed the rest of his drink and set his optics on Thunderclash’s untouched drink. The big mech must have seen him staring because he pushed it towards him only a moment later. Rodimus took a quick sip, looking for the words he wanted to say.

“Drift’ll be alright,” He said after a pause, “He knows how to handle himself. Primus knows he has a habit of completely disappearing if he wants to as well.”

“It’s okay to worry about him.” Thunderclash stated. Rodimus nodded.

“Worrying won’t help him though. I have to have faith,” Rodimus said taking another drink, “Maybe that’s arrogant but… I always feel like… If I’m not totally confident in something then it’ll fail. I can’t let Drift down like that.” He took another gulp of his engex, sad to find it was disappearing quite quickly.

“You’re probably right, Drift _is_ very resourceful. I’m sure that he will make it to the Circle of Light.” Thunderclash said with a smile, “This way, he’s got my confidence behind him too.”

Rodimus couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his lips, “Thanks ‘Clash. You’re a good friend—”

There was a loud noise of breaking glass somewhere next to Rodimus that pulled him from his thoughts completely. He flinched as he felt a drop of liquid hit his cheek. The slight tickle of the droplet chilled him as he clapped a hand to it. It burned like hot energon and he feared it would score all the way through his cheek. His spark spun faster and his tanks full of engex rolled.

“Rodimus, are you okay?!”

He blinked his optics and the sensation was gone. He wasn’t sure quite how it happened but now he was standing outside looking up dumbly at Thunderclash who had him by the arms. His hand was still on his cheek and when he pulled it way he could see the small wet remnants of what looked to be a blue engex drink. Far from the hot energon he had believed it to be.

“Rodimus…?”

He looked up at Thunderclash, finally focusing enough to realize that the bar’s patrons had also come out to see what was going on.

“Sorry about that…” Rodimus began trying to think of an explanation but floundering, “I-I think I had one too many too fast, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

He didn’t move however, as Thunderclash still had him by the arms and was looking down at him with concern. The big mech nodded after a moment and released him, “I’ll walk you home.”

Rodimus didn’t argue, after what just happened he doubt it would have gone over very well.

* * *

“Thank you for seeing me Ultra Magnus, I know this isn’t exactly ideal.” Megatron said, hoping he didn’t make Rodimus suspicious by sending him away.

Ultra Magnus leaned back in his chair a minuscule amount, “If I’m being honest, I’m a little confused. For what reason could the Prime not be here?”

Megatron winced slightly, “I’m afraid it’s because it has to do with the Prime himself… I know this isn’t your usual area of expertise but you know him so well I thought I might ask you about it.”

Ultra Magnus looked skeptical, “I’m concerned but… go on.”

Megatron took a deep breath, “Rodimus has been having nightmares lately. A lot more than usual and it’s getting troubling. He hasn’t said a word to me and I’m quite afraid to ask. So I was hoping maybe you could tell me something about it, anything, perhaps how long he’s had these nightmares? He’s had them for as long as we’ve been living together but now it’s just… I know he’s barely recharging at all.” Megatron paused, looking at Ultra Magnus for an answer. The blue mech’s face furrowed in a way that made Megatron’s spark fall.

“I don’t recall him ever having nightmares during his time with the Wreckers… And I’m afraid I don’t know him well enough to say for sure that he never had them before but,” Ultra Magnus sighed, “I did know Optimus and though he didn’t like to talk about it, he would sometimes suffer from— what I can only describe as ‘prophetic’, dreams. And most of the time, from what I understood, they were entirely unpleasant.”

“I don’t remember him… What I mean is, I never heard him talk about such dreams?” Megatron said, correcting himself halfway through.

“He didn’t like to talk about them and he didn’t have them very often. If Rodimus is having such dreams… I can only advise that you ask him about it, it could be important. He’s a young Prime and might not realize what is going on.” Ultra Magnus stated.

“But what if he won’t open up to me? We still don’t know each other very well and he barely listens to me, I can’t help him if he doesn’t want me to.” Megatron put his helm in his hands.

“Be open with him yourself,” Ultra Magnus said with a loud shrug of his giant shoulders, “If you want him to trust you, you need to show him that he _can_. A good first step would be telling him that you’re worried about him.”

Megatron gave him a slightly skeptical look but relented with a sigh, “So, with these prophetic dreams? What would be the symptoms?”

“Typically, Prime told me they at first wouldn’t seem to make sense. That they would be filled with images or pieces of images that were symbols or ideas rather than actual full dreams. And they never had relevancy until perhaps… _hours_ before they happened. Optimus got better at reading them but it was still usually only a _feeling_. An _instinct_ is what he called it.” Ultra Magnus explained somberly.

“That doesn’t seem very helpful.” Megatron frowned, “How do you plan anything tactical with only a few hours head start?”

The Enforcer laughed, a strange sound for how little Megatron ever heard it, “Well, Prime beat _you_ didn’t he?”

* * *

Walking back, Rodimus was sobering up quickly.

He pawed at his face where the droplet hit him. It stung weirdly, like he could still feel it on his face. And the memory that had accompanied it… He thought he had buried it a long time ago. Thankfully, Thunderclash didn’t press his curiosity and remained quiet while they walked. Rodimus had half considered transforming and leaving the big mech behind to avoid questions, once they were far enough from prying optics, but resigned himself to walking when he realized just how woozy he really was. Swerve sure had some _strong_ drinks.

Rodimus recognized the street they were on and his optics wandered to where he knew Drift’s apartment was. He suddenly felt his spark sink and he took off towards the building. The front door of his amica’s apartment was open and some mech was pushing Drift’s furniture out and onto the street.

“Rodimus?” He heard Thunderclash following behind him but he was too focused on what was in front of him to respond.

“Hey!” Rodimus shouted, “What’s going on here?” He banged a hand on the couch the mech was in the middle of moving causing the bot to jump.

“Ah, I’m just the moving guy don’t hurt me!” The little white bot curled up slightly.

“Grow a spine, Tailgate,” Another mech said, coming up from behind Tailgate, “We were hired by management to empty this place, they said the guy told them to clean it out.”

“ _Whirl?_ ” Rodimus said in shock as the familiar helicopter came into view.

“Oh, Rodimus, it’s you.” Whirl said, quite unenthusiastic.

“Why are you moving furniture?” Rodimus questioned, utterly confused.

Whirl’s optic narrowed, “It’s not my first pick if that’s why you’re asking. Getting kicked out of the Wreckers leaves my repertoire somewhat undesirable in this economy.”

Rodimus winced, “Oh, right. But the Defense forces are pretty thin, did you try them?”

The helicopter jumped up onto the couch and lounged, “They laughed me out of the room, isn’t that great! Now move I have a payment to collect.” Whirl stood up and got in Rodimus’ face.

“Whirl this is Drift’s place! He didn’t just up and leave, he’s coming back.” Rodimus said, blocking them from further moving the furniture.

“That’s not what management said.” Tailgate chimed from behind Whirl.

“What short stack said, now move.” Whirl clicked his bladed claws at him.

“Now, now, maybe we can come to an understanding here,” Thunderclash’s deep voice sounded from just over Rodimus’ shoulder, “What did the manager say exactly?”

“I don’t care, he just said move the stuff out, so that’s what we’re doing.” Whirl gestured wildly to the furniture.

“They said that the owner made his last payment and didn’t want the furniture anymore.” Tailgate piped.

“What _he_ said.” Whirl added impatiently.

Rodimus blinked looking at the stuff on the street. He knew Drift had taken all his most valuable items with him but he didn’t think… He moved further into the apartment, walking by the two mechs to peer inside the darkened apartment. It still smelled vaguely of the incense that the white speedster liked to burn. The altar to the Guiding Hand had been partially taken apart, though the charms Rodimus knew Drift had taken with him, it still hurt to see it this way.

“Just give us a few minutes, please.” He could barely hear Thunderclash over his own thoughts but he knew that the big mech came to stand beside him in the room.

“Why?” Rodimus asked quietly, to no one in particular.

“Drift wasn’t sure when he was coming back. It’s cheaper to not incur debts while away.” Thunderclash offered.

Rodimus shook his helm, “Drift doesn’t worry about money…” He looked at Thunderclash, feeling tears on the edges of his optics, knowing, “He must not have known _if_ he was coming back.”

“No, Rodimus, he’s coming back. He said so didn’t he?” Thunderclash once again took him by both arms and held his gaze firmly.

“He promised.” Rodimus said, his voice airy and unsure.

“Then he will.” Thunderclash said with all the confidence in the world, “And this place will be here for him when he get’s back. I’ll talk to the manager and get it all sorted out, okay? Drift’s place isn’t going anywhere.”

Rodimus was speechless, he wanted to say that Thunderclash didn’t have to do that, that it wasn’t a big deal, but the tears he was crying would have proven contrary. So instead he wrapped his arms around Thunderclash’s chest plate and hugged him.

“Thank you,” He said quietly, his face pressed against the big mech’s gaudy winged auto brand and not caring one bit.

He felt a single large arm come to rest across his shoulders, “You’re welcome, Rodimus.”

The two of them stayed behind and put the furniture back inside before Thunderclash had a talk to the manager, who as luck would have it was an extremely big fan of Thunderclash’s. Rodimus tipped Whirl and Tailgate before they left, feeling kind of bad that he took their gig from them. Thunderclash also took them aside while Rodimus was locking up and when he turned back around the two were leaving in much higher spirits.

“Everything alright?” Rodimus asked.

“Yeah, those two looked to have just the sort of gumption we might need on our crew so I asked them to come and interview next week and see if we could find some suitable jobs for them.” Thunderclash said with a smile.

“Really, I mean the little guy, sure, but you asked _Whirl_?” Rodimus asked, more than a little incredulous given the fact that Whirl was off-putting to almost _everyone_.

“Why not? He’s not using his skills to the best of his abilities and that usually leads to trouble. This way I can hopefully give him a job that’s fit for him and keep him from… well you know.” Thunderclash chuckled.

“Stabbing someone again?” Rodimus said dryly, “I see your point but let’s just hope Whirl doesn’t get any bright ideas and… _mutiny_ us or something.”

Thunderclash shook his helm, “Whirl doesn’t seem the type to do something like that, he might be a bit… at odds with himself at times, but I feel like he’s a good mech deep down.”

“Really, _really_ , deep down,” Rodimus laughed, “Eh, what the heck, Whirl will probably just be happy he’s doing something.”

“Glad you agree.” Thunderclash smiled.

“At least it’s something we agree on…” Rodimus smirked, “Can we agree on Captain Rodimus yet?”

Thunderclash gave him a sardonic side-optic, “You’re not going to let that go are you?”

Rodimus swiveled his helm side to side, “Nope!”

“Not that I don’t absolutely believe you can do it, I’m sure you can, but I’ve had years of experience being a Captain and I want this journey to go as smoothly as possible,” Thunderclash said, sounding apologetic, “Which is why I still think my being Captain is the better idea, we could use this chance for me to teach you the ropes, you’ll still be second in command.”

Rodimus wiggled as they walked, impatience getting to him, “But you could still teach me as _my_ second! You could even still have all the authority of Captain without it—maybe even more since people will probably listen to you more anyways.”

“What would the point of you being Captain then?” Thunderclash raised an optic ridge at him, “The title means nothing without the authority.”

Rodimus hummed in thought, “Oh, what about— Co-Captains!” He exclaimed, holding up a finger, “That way we both are recognized as Captain!”

Thunderclash laughed, “I’ve never heard of that before, I’m not sure if the paperwork would fly on that. We would still need a Captain on the official reports.”

Rodimus screwed up his face at that. On the one hand, getting to be Captain would be sweet! On the other, having to file the paperwork…

“Let’s stick a pin in it for now and come back to this,” Rodimus said, yawning at the mere thought of sitting at a desk anymore than he had to, “I’m too tired to think straight anymore.”

“Well, at least you don’t have to walk much further,” Thunderclash said as they stopped only feet before his home.

Rodimus looked up at the tall building and felt woozy all over again, causing him to let out a giggle, “Oh look at that.” He looked over at Thunderclash and felt like he was being hit by a truck. A giant, multi-colored truck with a winged auto brand and a kind smile and red-magenta optics that could burn flames. He was just standing there next to him, their shoulders almost brushing, but he might as well have been the only thing around him for miles and miles as far as his processor was concerned. He was fighting with himself because, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wanted to kiss Thunderclash goodnight.

This wasn’t a date, dumbaft, he reminded himself, if it was it would have been the worst date ever. Walking him home after having a freak out in a bar and a breakdown in your absent best friend’s apartment. But still his processor was highly aware of what movements would be swift enough to capture those lips with his even if only for a moment. Half a step forward and on his toe-pedes, he could follow the movement by pulling Thunderclash down to him…

“I guess I’ll see you next week?” Thunderclash said, his voice soft enough not to completely break the silence between them but loud enough to interrupt his thoughts.

Swallowing hard, Rodimus fought to keep his voice even, “Yeah. Sure.” He took a deep vent before taking a step towards his building. 

“Oh,” He stopped, “Thanks again, for the whole… Drift thing. I almost lost my confidence.” He said with a smile. 

To his astonishment, Thunderclash returned it ten-fold, “Happy to help.”

Rodimus felt his smile turn goofy as he resumed his walk up to his building. He made it to the door before he got the urge to look back, which he did not fight. Thunderclash was still smiling at him from the street where he was standing in the dim light of the lamps. The big mech waved, a gesture Rodimus returned before heading inside finally. He felt a little foolish for it but a strange giddiness he could only attribute to the engex in his system was masking it. And by the time he reached his apartment and punched in his code for the door, he could feel that goofy grin still on his face.

“You’re a lot later than I thought you’d be.”

Rodimus looked up in surprise, seeing Megatron sitting at their table with a light pen and a couple data pads.

“You look awfully cheery,” Megatron quirked a brow at him, “Where did you go?”

Rodimus felt his tanks lurch slightly and he felt his grin morph into an apologetic smile, “Oh, I went out for a drink, ended up meeting Thunderclash so we had a few to celebrate our little project getting promoted.” He laughed it off.

“Have you two discussed whose going to be Captain yet?” Megatron asked, looking back down at his work in front of him for a moment.

“We’ve stuck a pin in it.” Rodimus said with a roll of his optics.

“Hm,” Megatron put his pen down and turned to him, everything about his demeanor suggesting that he had something serious to say, “I wanted to ask you a question, Rodimus.”

Rodimus swallowed. His processor working a thousand miles a minute as to what it might be about. It landed on the only obvious thing it could think of which was Thunderclash. Rodimus had been spending a lot of time with him. Was Megs getting suspicious? Would he not want to bond with him if he was trying to date Thunderclash? Did he know about the kiss? Though he knew it was highly improbable that the big mech could have known about it, Rodimus still found himself unable to take the thought of talking about it.

“Could it wait until tomorrow? All the engex has made me sleepy.” Rodimus said, punctuating his lie with a yawn. It wasn’t totally untrue, and he hoped that if he could put it off for now maybe the big mech might forget about it. Fat chance but Rodimus had to try.

Megatron’s optics narrowed and his brow furrowed in what he thought could be concern before it faded, “Sure, but tomorrow we _will_ talk about it.”

“Yessir.” Rodimus said with a salute before walking casually to his room.

He vented a sigh of relief when he was behind the door. He shuffled his way to his wash racks to clean himself off, feeling strangely guilty. It wasn’t like he was dating Thunderclash behind Megatron’s back or anything. He was just having… feelings. He supposed the guilt may have come from the fact that he felt them for Megatron first. Not to mention he was supposed to be bonded to him by now and wasn’t. This whole thing seemed like it was just getting in the way of that but his spark was just unrelenting.

Why? He asked himself. Is it because Thunderclash is a kind and decent mech? He’s met plenty of those and never fallen for them this fast before. Rodimus cringed, realizing that was kind of a lie to himself. 

There had been one mech he had fallen this fast for before. The only problem with that had been that the mech never fell for _him_. He couldn’t blame him for that though, not when he knew the story, when knew why he loved someone else. And he still trusted that mech and valued him as a great friend to this very day. Trusted him enough even, to share his spark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa play, Letters by Utada Hikaru...
> 
> Sorry this is (kind of) late. I've been out of sorts and feeling incredibly anxious lately. Then this chapter turned out REALLY LONG, insert penis joke I don't have the energy to make up, and I didn't want to split it because it's kind of important to consume it all together.
> 
> I'm so excited for next week tho so I'm off to write more lmao


	25. Dreams?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus gets a fright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes some of the "light horror" I mentioned in the tags. Just a little suspense to get the ball rolling. Skip the italics in the beginning if you get easily spooked. (I honestly don't have a good litmus test for how creepy this is and thus, the warning).

_Rodimus felt himself awaken from another horrible dream. He kept his optics closed in aggravation, hoping to will himself back to recharge. He couldn’t recall at all what the dream had been about but he knew it made him feel nauseated. Bad memories just refused to let him rest huh? He rolled onto his side and opened an optic to look out the window._

_A chill ran down his spinal strut. His venting hitched as he stopped the passage of air. He could hear nothing but his spark turning in his chest plates and the subtle movement of his body settling in the berth. His jaw clenched as he tried to still himself completely, hoping to avoid being noticed._

_Because out the window he saw a pair of gleaming blue orbs. His first instinct was that they were optics. Someone was looking in on him._

_He couldn’t see them very well, half of his face was covered by the pillow. But their shape was odd for them to be eyes, even mechanical ones. They were perfectly round and perfectly spaced part. He couldn’t tell if they were near or far but they were large and surrounded by perpetual darkness that eclipsed whatever may have been attached to them._

_His optic grew weary from being held open but he was too scared to look away. Finally, he let his lid fall shut, unable to take the strain any longer. He didn’t have to look at the frightful orbs in his window any longer but the dark pit in his tanks only grew. His world was black behind his lids so instead he listened for the slightest noise. Anything that would tell him that his voyeur had gotten inside. He cursed the grinding of his own dentae as they creaked against one another, drowning out all other noises in the room. He relaxed his jaw as best he could but the silence that followed was no better._

_Rodimus wished to open his optics again but the fear kept them shut, kept him listening intently. He feared if he opened them, then the creature’s form would materialize inside his room. His plating crawled against him, shuddering as he heard something. He couldn’t describe the noise, perhaps it was a pedestep, or an exvent against glass, maybe it was the approach of something in the room with him._

_His spark turned faster in his chest plates, readying for a fight, and Rodimus couldn’t take being still any longer._

He sat up, his optics flying open and scanning the room. 

But there was nothing there. 

He turned his head and looked about the room before his optics darted to the window.

It was empty.

Whatever presence it had held there before was gone.

So why did he still feel like he was being watched? A gut instinct told him to run. To _get out_.

Any sense of appropriateness be damned, Rodimus shot from his berth in an instant. He quickly crept down the hall, peeking into the living room for half a second to make sure no one was there before quietly making his way to Megatron’s room. He opened the door, slipped inside, and shut it in one motion, making great efforts to remain as quiet as possible. 

The room was much darker than the others, as Megatron kept his blinds closed, so he waited a moment for his optics to adjust before taking a step into the room. He reached out tentatively and gripped the side of the berth. He hesitated for a small moment before flinging a leg up and crawling onto the bed.

Despite all of his efforts, the movement must have stirred Megatron who awoke and sat up so quickly it scared Rodimus off the side of the berth again, hitting the floor with a thud and an ‘oof’ on his part.

“Wh-Wha? Who?” Megatron’s red optics blearily settled on him and his frame relaxed visibly, “Rodimus? What’s this all about?” 

Rodimus suddenly felt a bit ridiculous. Sitting on the floor after running into Megatron’s room like a sparkling after a nightmare. But something about what he saw struck him as very real. Too real to have been a mere dream, but he didn’t know why. Nor did he know how to even begin to explain it to Megatron.

“I-I,” Rodimus began, “I just keep… seeing…” He swallowed around a lump in his intake.

Megatron stared at him.

Rodimus stood up from the floor and sat at the edge of the berth, staring down at his lap and trying to calm down. He didn’t even realize just how much he was shaking until this moment and he tried to steel himself, “Is… Is it okay if I recharge in here?”

He waited for a reply but after a long moment of silence he turned to look at Megatron who was still regarding him with an almost sympathetic look.

“If you’re not comfortable with that— that’s okay, I understand—”

Megatron moved his covers aside and pointed to the space beside him, “Just get over here.”

Rodimus couldn’t help the swell in his spark as he moved immediately into the berth. He gave half a thought to settling on the far side of the berth to give Megatron his space before the silver mech in question suddenly pulled him in close to his chest. He was still shaking and he closed his optics and willed himself to stop, feeling tears brim the edges of his optics as he did so.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” Megatron said in a low voice, close to his audial.

Rodimus might have thought the tone patronizing if he hadn’t also thought Megatron’s voice felt so soothing. Unlike all the other nights where he stayed up, alone and unable to sleep, having someone with him and having a voice to ground him was like a balm on an open wound. He had to bite back the tears that he desperately wanted to shed, which only meant that his shaking intensified for a few moments. Megatron’s arm around his waist tightened, another oddly calming gesture.

“Just sleep.” Megatron soothed, his hand stroking Rodimus’ back gently.

And Rodimus willed himself to do just that with every part of his being.

* * *

Rodimus awoke feeling strangely warm. He was conscious but his body begged him not to be. His plating shuddered of it’s own accord and he snuggled back into his pillow. An oddly… stiff pillow.

His optics opened just as he remembered that he wasn’t in his own berth, and took in the sight of a quietly dozing Megatron very close to his face. The silver mech had shifted in the night and pulled Rodimus to lay on top of his chest, both arms loosely wrapped around him still. Having never woken up before the other mech, Rodimus felt a fond smile tug his lips at the sleepy face of Megatron. Perfectly relaxed save for his brow which still managed to be slightly furrowed, as if even his dreams found a way to annoy him. A part of Rodimus wanted to poke his cheek for some reason but it was contained by the other part that wanted to go back to recharge.

He laid his cheek back to Megatron’s chest, feeling the gentle idle of his engines and the steady turn of his spark beneath the plating.

“Rodimus?” Megatron stirred.

“Shh, go back to recharge.” He hissed, cursing himself for venturing a look in the first place. Megatron was the lightest recharger he had ever met.

“…Rodimus, I know you’re tired but we need to talk.”

Judging by his tone, Rodimus could tell he wasn’t getting out of this one. So he sighed in resignation, pulled his head up to rest on his chin, and pouted at the big mech.

“Can I fuel first?”

Megatron nodded.

Rodimus tiredly drug himself out of berth and into their living area, with Megatron right behind him the whole way, he stopped and stared down the hall to his room. In his rush he had left the door open in his wake. He could see the light scattering across his berth, coming in from the window that was out of sight, blocked by the door and it’s frame. A chilling sensation crept up on him as he recalled the sight of the blue orbs in his window…

Megatron got his attention with a nudge from his cube, “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah—yeah just uh, remembering…” Rodimus trailed off as he took his fuel from the bigger mech. Megatron gave him a concerned look and Rodimus tried to laugh it off, “I’m fine, really!”

Still frowning, Megatron gestured to the couch, “Let’s sit down.”

They sat, side by side, Megatron turned towards him on his right and giving him a look that suggested he was waiting for an explanation. The silver mech didn’t do much more than watch Rodimus as he sipped his energon. He was trying to find the words but they wouldn’t come to him. How was he supposed to explain what happened last night? He wasn’t even sure what he saw. Thankfully Megatron didn’t get angry or frustrated that Rodimus was clearly stalling, which he appreciated. Though, seeing that he was unable to really put it off for much longer, Rodimus set down his energon and he took a deep invent to prepare himself.

“You probably won’t be surprised to hear this but uh,” Rodimus decided to opt for the most obvious information first as he tapped his fingers on his legs, “I’ve been having some bad nightmares lately— I mean I’ve always had nightmares from time to time, but now it’s… it’s like the nightmares have a life of their own.”

Megatron nodded, “I… I have known about the nightmares for some time. I thought you would come to me if you needed help but you never did… I’m sorry for that, I feel like I should have asked sooner.” Megatron’s voice wavered a bit and he cleared his intake, “Out of my concern, I did ask Ultra Magnus if he knew something about your dreams.”

Rodimus looked at him sharply, “You went to _Magnus_?”

Megatron looked a little guilty, “Yes, and I apologize for that as well, since I should have asked you directly.”

Rodimus narrowed his optics, feeling a little hurt and embarrassed, “Yeah, you _should_ have.”

“He did tell me,” Megatron continued urgently, “That your dreams might be some kind of prophecy. He said Optimus used to get them, and that they were a warning of things to come.”

Rodimus blinked, startled by this information, “He did?”

“Apparently so, though… He never mentioned it to me, and I don’t recall him having nightmares when…” Megatron trailed off, looking downwards before shaking his helm, “I guess my question is this; have these dreams—nightmares, have they seemed different than normal? Other than their frequency? Magnus said that the prophetic dreams would lack relevancy, they were distinct in that Optimus could not place them in memory.”

Rodimus swallowed. Up until now he could have confidently said ‘no’ because his dreams were all just bad memories creeping up on him. Things he buried and were resurfacing for some reason. It had never been this bad before and he didn’t know why. And if they weren’t the prophetic kind then what gives? Rodimus chewed his lip as he thought.

“None of the dreams before were… They were all just memories. Bad ones.” Rodimus said, not looking at Megatron, “Until last night. I saw… something. Outside my window, like a pair of optics or something.” He looked up to catch a glimpse of Megatron’s face and the emotion it held. He looked alarmed and perhaps rightfully so.

“Was there anything else?” Megatron asked gently.

Thinking hard, Rodimus shook his helm, “Not really… I just remember feeling like it was going to _get in_ and that I needed to _get out_.” He watched as several emotions crossed Megatron’s face at once, his optics seeming to narrow in thought before they settled back on him.

“I’m going to ask for the building security to be raised.” Megatron said with finality.

Rodimus felt his optics widen, “So you think that was one of them?”

“Don’t panic Rodimus—”

“It’s kind of hard not to!” Rodimus said, almost shouting, realizing how hysterical he sounded afterwards and he cleared his intake.

Megatron took one of his hands in his, “Listen, Magnus said that the dreams wouldn’t make sense until maybe hours before they were necessary so it’s possible this was only the first of many to come. Maybe it didn’t mean anything right now, but to be cautious we should have the security around the building improved.”

Rodimus remained silent as his processor started running. Probing for any possible meaning other than the obvious: _someone was watching him from outside his window_. Because the implications simply just made his plating crawl. Who could it be? Why? What would be the point? What if it hadn’t been optics? It had been two round orbs of blue light. Maybe that’s not what it had been, and that doubt in and of itself was even more confusing.

“Hey.”

Rodimus was broken from his stupor by a hand on his cheek, right where the droplet had hit him last night. Megatron looked him in the optics.

“Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. I won’t let it.” The silver mech said, his voice firm and almost threatening whatever force might say otherwise.

Taking a shuddering vent, Rodimus nodded, “Is it alright if I sleep with you for now?” He asked, sheepishly and half-joking to lighten the mood.

Megatron’s optics softened however, “You can sleep in my berth whenever you like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me your thoughts about this chapter! I wrote the first part so long ago that I'm not sure if it's even scary anymore because I've reread it like 100 times lol


	26. The Pain of an Average Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron struggles with his co-workers while Rodimus is away.

“Don’t give me that look, Soundwave.” 

Megatron glared at the mech in question who had his arms crossed over his cassette chest, judging him harshly from the looks of it. He had asked Soundwave to come down to see him at his office while he was working so as to ask him for that favor. He didn’t think he was going to get a lecture out of it too but after he told Soundwave about Rodimus’ ‘vision’ he probably should have seen it coming.

“Megatron should have told Rodimus about the _threat_.” Soundwave said emphatically.

Megatron leaned back in his office chair, “You didn’t _see_ him. He was incredibly upset already, I didn’t think telling him I received a death threat, days ago, would have helped.”

“Rodimus has a right to know.” Soundwave said firmly.

“Okay, you’re right. I admit it. But I can’t have Rodimus losing his processor about it when he already has so much going on. I get the feeling he’s stressed from work and Drift leaving. He’s only been a week without his amica and I feel he’s already unraveling.” Megatron said, bargaining with himself as much as Soundwave, “I want to substantiate the threat before I tell him. It could have nothing to do with what Rodimus saw.”

“Megatron could be putting the Prime at risk.” Soundwave pointed out, “If the threat is actually real.”

Megatron felt appalled as he shook his helm, “Look, I’m having our security updated, I’m going to ask Prowl to escort Rodimus to and from work while I’m away, and when he’s working he’s going to be surrounded by the most well equipped bots in the city. I’m sure Rodimus will be well protected, not to mention he _can_ handle himself.” He reminded.

“Then Megatron is risking himself.” Soundwave accused.

“Three days, Soundwave, that’s all I’m asking for,” Megatron implored, avoiding the accusation, “Anymore than that and Starscream will be the death of me before this threat has a chance to—“

A knock at the door interrupted that thought as a tall figure entered Megatron’s office.

It was Thunderclash, “Oh, I’m sorry if I interrupted, I was wondering if either of you had seen Rodimus today? Prowl is getting a little upset and… well he missed our meeting.” The brightly colored mech asked looking a little distressed. Megatron felt his brow raise as he took in the state of the other mech.

“Sorry, I guess I forgot to tell Prowl that Rodimus wasn’t feeling well. He’s taking a few days off to catch up on some rest.” Megatron replied slowly.

“Is he alright?” Thunderclash asked, his demeanor distressing further.

Curious, “He’s fine, he’s cranky, was there something important you needed to talk to him about?” Megatron asked, trying to not feel defensive. 

The colorful mech had his reasons for asking, sure enough, but Megatron felt like he had to protect Rodimus because of all that was going on. He tried to remind himself that Thunderclash was not the culprit. He highly doubted that the colorful mech would have had it in him to pose any threat, seeing as he was far too noble for that, and he especially didn’t strike Megatron as the kind to be watching from a window. He was the kind of mech that had to look you in the optics when he ripped your spark out. He was very _Autobot_ , while the perpetrator struck Megatron as distinctly Decepticon with his cryptic and untraceable message. No, Thunderclash was definitely not responsible for the vision…

“No, I’m… Just a little concerned. He was acting,” Thunderclash paused, looking to be trying to find the right word, “Odd the other night.”

That caught Megatron’s attention, “How so?” He asked.

“Well, we were out having a drink— celebrating our mission status, and he was in good spirits for the most part,” Thunderclash looked nervous for some reason, “Then, someone next to us dropped a tray of drinks and the noise seemed to scare him right out of his seat. After that he was acting kind of out of it…” The big mech trailed off.

Megatron should have been surprised but he found himself connecting the dots rather calmly, “I see, well Rodimus hasn’t been recharging very well so it probably made him jumpy.” He said, inwardly thinking to how Rodimus had been shaking the other night, his nerves had no doubt been frayed from his lack or recharge for some time.

“I suppose you have a point, I hope he feels better, give him my regards will you?” Thunderclash said with a sad smile.

An idea sprouted in Megatron’s processor in that moment as the big bot turned around and showed off an impressive array of back kibble. This bot was one of the Autobots most respected and feared warriors. He could think of no one better to be keeping an optic on Rodimus while he was gone. No offense to Prowl, but he wasn’t 50 feet tall or had heavy artillery on his back. 

Megatron stood quickly and took a few steps towards the door, “Wait, just a moment.” Thunderclash stopped, turning on his heel, his optics wide and nervous as ever but Megatron had that effect on many a bot so he ignored the reaction.

“Would it be too much of me if I asked you for a favor, Thunderclash?” Megatron asked politely.

Thunderclash looked surprised, “Oh um, not at all, what did you need of me?”

“I’m going to be away for a few days and, as you said, Rodimus has been acting a little odd. Could you keep an optic on him while I’m gone? I was going to ask Prowl because he’s his secretary but seeing that you two work together just as much, and he doesn’t seem to hate you, I thought perhaps you might be a better fit for the job.” Megatron explained, “I would be asking for you make sure he gets to and from work alright, only for three days until I get back of course, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind at all,” Thunderclash’s face melted into a much happier smile, “And I would probably be a better pick than Prowl, it would save both of them a helm ache.”

“Exactly,” Megatron chuckled, “Now I don’t have the dates set as of right now but it will probably be some time next week,” Megatron looked pointedly at Soundwave, “So I’ll send you a message before I leave and let Rodimus to know to expect you. Thank you, Thunderclash.”

“It’s no problem, do tell Rodimus ‘hi’ for me.” Thunderclash smiled warmly as he retreated beyond the door with a soft click and Megatron turned to Soundwave once the big mech was gone.

“There, now Rodimus has the Greatest Autobot of Whatever looking after him too.” Megatron said with a gesture at the door for emphasis.

The tall mech took a step forward and indicated with three digits, “Three days, then you tell Rodimus what this was all about.” He said menacingly.

Megatron was not one to usually be pushed around but he decided to concede to Soundwave’s display of force with a nod. After all, he was probably the one bot who _could_ kill him and get away with it if he cared enough to try.

As the rest of the day went by, Megatron’ processor kept going back to the threatening message. He hadn’t wanted to give it any merit since it was such an underhanded gesture but with Rodimus’ dreams going on he wanted to be cautious. He wish he knew how the dreams worked better but Ultra Magnus had said that Optimus had only ever been vague about them. Which lead Megatron to believe that Optimus didn’t entirely know how they worked either.

It still saddened him to think that there was anything that Optimus had been afraid to share with him. Perhaps maybe it never came up after the war was over… No Megatron had a hard time believing that. Optimus must have kept it hidden from him for a reason. He didn’t want to think ill of the old Prime but he could help but be angry that, after all they had been through together, he still kept secrets from Megatron.

“Why?” He found himself saying aloud as he stared at the work on his desk, no longer reading the same paragraph he had been stuck on for the past five minutes, “Why did you do it, Optimus?”

With a sigh, Megatron rose to dispense himself some coolant. 

A knock came from his door and it opened unceremoniously to reveal the imposing form of Tyrest. He narrowed his optics at the mech, as whenever he arrived it was hardly with good news. Not to mention, Megatron wasn’t overly fond of any mech who adorned themselves with a _cape_ of all things.

“Tyrest,” He said stiffly, “Did you need something?”

“Yes. The council and I have recently had a talk about your current position.” Tyrest began with his holier-than-thou bravado and utter contempt as he swept the room with his optics.

Megatron bit back a comment of ‘it’s funny how you call the council to meet about me when Rodimus isn’t feeling well,’ as this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Every subsequent time it did, Megatron’s abilities to get anything done diminished almost exponentially, giving him smaller budgets for cities, taking his equipment away for other projects, at this point he was running the show with only one arm, half an optic, and an _organic stick_.

“Oh, have you,” Megatron said, trying to put on his best surprised face, “And what did you decide?”

“We’ve found your lack of progress rather disappointing. Effective immediately, you will begin training your replacement, Scrapper, and have him ready to take control of the Cybertronian Restoration by next month.” Tyrest said without even batting an optic.

Megatron shouldn’t have been surprised, he really shouldn’t, but still anger rose in his spark and his engines rumbled in aggravation, “You— _Pompous_ —Argh, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to sabotage this project from the beginning, getting in my way at every turn. Now you’re just going to hand it off to someone else?!” He shouted, thrusting a digit at the taller mech.

“There is no need to be dramatic, Megatron,” Tyrest put his hands behind his back, “The council simply sees the need for a change to ensure that the restoration continues on schedule.”

“Maybe it would be on schedule if you hadn’t taken all of my resources and my workers.” Megatron hissed, his hands balling into fists with an audible crunch. 

Tyrest’s optics took notice of the motion and he strode forward with irritating confidence until he was right in Megatron’s face, “Are you saying you wish to defy the order of the council?”

“I never said that.” Megatron responded in deadpan, trying to calm himself before he committed a crime.

“Then you will have Scrapper trained by this time next month, and have your office cleared of your personal belongings by then.” Tyrest turned and exited the room without another word.

Megatron stayed in place, glaring at the door and hoping to burn a hole through it, and Tyrest, if he could. When he finally relaxed was when he realized he had squeezed his cube of coolant hard enough to shatter it, spilling the contents all over the floor. He sighed and called for a clean up bot, sitting back down and feeling older than he had in years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... was going to say something then my cat reached into his bowl of wet food with his paw and licked his beans clean like some kind of stuck up aristocrat and I lost my train of thought.
> 
> So yeah. This chapter was longer but I decided to split it and post twice this week instead. So look for another chapter either tomorrow or the day after. Also, I find that I love writing things that frustrate Megatron.


	27. Rest and Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unpleasant day comes to a much better end.

Megatron was all too happy to head home as quickly as possible when the day was over, cutting out a little early even. He was essentially being fired already so why not. He wasn’t quite expecting the greeting he got when he got home though.

The door opened and he was met with the smell of wet paint and not another moment later he took in the sight of their living area. Half of it was painted one color, the dark burgundy that he had picked out, and the other half was a slightly muted but still vibrant red. The supplies for which were still sitting out and he could see the remnants of where paint had been spilled and sloppily cleaned up. Megatron was speechless until he realized that the speedster responsible for this was no where to be seen. He panicked for a moment, looking around for any trace of Rodimus or perhaps where he might be. Thankfully he heard the running of solvent, curiously coming from Megatron’s wash racks instead of Rodimus’, and he relaxed with that knowledge.

Walking down the hall to his room, Megatron let out another relieved sigh as he was grateful to be home. Inside his room he noted that his berth was a mess. Rodimus must have spent the day in here, he thought to himself with a sad smile. He turned and knocked on the wash rack door.

“Hey, don’t use up all the hot solvent.” Megatron called through the door.

“Ack, don’t scare me like that!” A muffled Rodimus responded haughtily from behind it. 

Megatron hummed to himself. If Rodimus was still jumpy, he probably didn’t get as much recharge as Megatron had hoped he would. He told the speedster to stay home after another fitful night but he was probably going to need more than one day of rest to settle down. Turning to look around the room, Megatron had half a thought of turning on his computer to get things in order for his new assignment, replacing himself, but a wave of lethargy at the thought stopped him. He decided his work could wait until he was at least clean but Megatron also decided he couldn’t wait until Rodimus was finished for that to happen. He turned back and opened the door, striding inside, earning a rather adorable squeak from Rodimus.

“What, no warning?” Rodimus asked, crossing his arms, “I could have been indecent in here!”

“Nothing I haven’t already seen by now,” Megatron droned, walking right into the spray of solvent which was thankfully still warm, “Besides, these are _my_ wash racks remember?” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around Rodimus, who was even warmer than the spray, and hummed appreciatively.

“Megs, you’re getting office grime all over me! I’m gonna have to wash again.” Rodimus laughed though he didn’t pull away from the embrace. Megatron couldn’t quite recall when he had become so comfortable with the speedster but he was happy that they’d come this far. He rested his helm on Rodimus’ shoulder and let himself relax into the warmth and the pleasant smell of fresh wax lingering on his plating.

“Hey, are you feeling okay? You seem… upset?” Rodimus observed.

Megatron chuckled, “I got fired.”

“Wait, what?” The speedster tapped him on the arm and he pulled his helm up to look into his blue optics, “They can’t do that!”

“Well, fired might not be the right word. I’m being replaced.” Megatron corrected.

“Did they say what you’re going to be doing once they’ve replaced you?” Rodimus asked, crossing his arms as he was clearly getting heated about this.

“No, not yet at least.”

“Then they fired you, those no good—”

Megatron planted a kiss on Rodimus’ lips to stem the flow of expletives he knew was coming. After spending half the day thinking about it, he would rather not have to hear about how miserable and insufferable Tyrest was from Rodimus, no matter how right he was with his descriptions. Though in truth, Megatron had expected Rodimus to laugh and push him away so could continue his ranting about the council. So he was a little unprepared when the speedster’s arms encircled him and he leaned up to deepen the kiss. 

Rodimus tasted like one too many sweets and hot embers with a slight tang of the solvent mixed in. Rodimus normally kissed like how he drove, wildly and fast, but that was absent this time. He instead moved slow, and deliberate, like he was paying strict attention to the kiss and nothing else.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten one of those.” Rodimus said when they parted, a little breathless.

“Sorry.” Megatron felt guilty. He’d been really trying but it had slipped his processor that he was supposed to be acting like an affectionate conjunx. It showed just how neglectful he’d been of Rodimus lately and he withered at the thought.

“Don’t be, I’m not mad or anything!” Rodimus said quickly, “I’m just saying it’s nice, it’s like getting a treat every now and then.”

“A treat huh?” Megatron smirked, “You’d know all about treats wouldn’t you? I can still taste them.”

“So I like to over indulge, sue me.” Rodimus shrugged, a blush clear on his faceplate despite his casualness.

“I’m just worried you won’t be able to recharge tonight. Again.” Megatron pointed out.

“Ha, that uh, might have been why I was eating them in the first place. Trying to stay awake so I could recharge better tonight.” Rodimus gave him smile and a shrug.

“If I remember correctly, I told you to _rest_. Not stay up all day.” Megatron shook his helm, exasperated.

“I did rest! I just didn’t shut my optics for longer than two seconds.” Rodimus said with that infuriatingly cute-awkward smile.

Megatron took a deep invent, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”

“More like what am I gonna do with you,” Rodimus said, moving Megatron’s arm out of the way to stare at his chassis, “I get you’re heavy machinery but you need to get better at cleaning yourself.”

“It would help if I had hot solvent to use.” Megatron remarked as Rodimus took a sponge to a spot somewhere underneath his arm where he couldn’t see.

“You’re just going to have to wash with me more often then.” The speedster gave him cheeky look and Megatron felt a sudden desire bubbling within him, made worse by the small hands playing with his vents on his abdomen. 

Rodimus had always had an attractive air to him, with the way he talked and how he moved, but Megatron surprised himself more and more at how much he simply enjoyed the mech touching him so casually. Such relaxed movements as just being washed made him feel an almost impulsive affection for Rodimus. It made him want to make the speedster feel the same, to make him feel _good_. It would be so easy to just pick up the speedster and have him against the wall in seconds. He could touch him to his spark’s content and ravish that small frame with every ounce of affection he deserved…

“There, I think that’s all your blind spots!” Rodimus said with a wink as he pressed the sponge to his chest, “Think you can handle the rest while I finish cleaning up the living room?”

Megatron shook his helm, to be sure he heard right through the fog that currently encased his helm, “You’re actually going to leave the living room painted like that?”

Rodimus gave him a shrug, “Why not? Just give it a chance, you might like it! If not I’ll change it next week end.” The speedster stepped out of the spray and began drying himself.

Megatron clutched the sponge in his hand to keep it from falling, “Fine, but if anyone asks I protested heavily.”

“You got it.” Rodimus laughed.

Megatron cleaned quickly, as the solvent was now starting to get cold. He dried off and went to the living room to find Rodimus stacking the paint to the side and rolling up the tarp he’d laid down to catch the drippings. He was moving so slowly, it worried Megatron. Speed frames weren’t exactly known for energy resilience, in fact quite the opposite. He didn’t want Rodimus accidentally doing damage to his spark by not recharging properly, he’d already known bots who burned themselves out too young from doing so.

“Rodimus, I’ll clean this up, go and rest.”

“I’ve got it.” 

Megatron could see the stubborn streak coming so he decided to bypass it. With a quick invent he bent over and picked up the speedster into his arms.

“Megs! Hey, I said—Put me down!” Rodimus wriggled, trying to escape. Megatron wasn’t having it though.

“Maybe you do but you’re making _me_ tired watching you.” Megatron said, which wasn’t untrue, “The mess can wait until tomorrow.”

“If Ultra Magnus heard you say that he would actually short circuit.” Rodimus said, crossing his arms but relenting with his squirming as they neared Megatron’s room.

“A good thing _he_ isn’t my conjunx,” Megatron chuckled, setting Rodimus down on the berth, “Now stay, I’ll be back with your fuel.”

“Bu—”

“No ‘buts’, you stay.” Megatron said as he exited the room, giving the speedster no chance to voice his protests. He prepared their nightly fuel, with a few extra minerals for Rodimus to help clear the sweets from his system and help him wind down for the night. When he returned he found Rodimus lying on his front, his back to him, undoubtably pouting.

“Fuel up.” Megatron took a seat next to his upper half and offered the cube to him.

“Mmh.” Rodimus huffed, “I don’t need you to be coddling me.” He sat up and took the cube anyway, throwing daggers with his optics. Megatron frowned at that.

“I’m not doing it to make you feel incompetent or broken, Rodimus,” He began, pausing when his processor caught up to his words, “I’m doing it because I _want_ to take care of you. You’re my conjunx, my mate, you’re my responsibility.” 

Rodimus paused, looking at him with a sideways glance before a smirk pulled at his handsome features, “Aw, how sweet, you _care_ about me.” He teased.

“Must you turn everything into a joke?” Megatron said with a smile of his own.

“Only funny things.” Rodimus gulped his cube in earnest now and Megatron was just relieved he was back in good spirits.

Megatron stood and went to his computer to work out a few more details on Cybertron’s restoration, or what little he thought he could finish before it was all taken away from him. He went through and organized his files on the different cities, each of which had different architects and engineers working on them. Then, one caught his optic that made his spark fall. He looked over at Rodimus who was perusing his data pad before back at the nearly empty file for Nyon. He had never even gotten it out of the clean up phase and now he would never have the chance to see it was restored properly. Considering how many bots had told him it was a lost cause, he knew for almost certain it would be abandoned. The thought of which broke Megatron’s spark in a way he never knew anything could.

“Is it okay if I recharge in here again?”

Megatron looked up at the question, “I had assumed that you were going to.”

“Oh, good,” Rodimus said as he rolled over to the far side near the wall, “I’ll try not to take up the whole berth.”

Megatron stared at the speedster’s back for a moment before returning his attention back to the file for Nyon. He worked swiftly, assigning trusted names and suggesting appropriate materials for the city. At least if they ever managed to get it cleaned up, they would have a place to start. Still, Megatron felt unsatisfied. So with a heavy sigh, Megatron wrote up a message for the council, asking that if he couldn’t be kept as the head then perhaps he could still stay on as an overseer for one city. He sent the message off with a prayer and a heavy spark.

With not much left to do, Megatron turned off his computer and made his way to his berth. Rodimus was still awake, judging from his shallow venting. Megatron slipped into the berth and beside the speedster. Their first night together the speedster had recharged all the way until morning, but the next night he tossed and turned on his own side of the berth. Megatron wondered if perhaps it would help him if he held him, like he did that first night. He was afraid of trying to touch him however, afraid it was unwanted. 

“Rodimus, are… are you feeling okay?”

“Ngh, I’m starting to get tired,” Rodimus groaned, “But… I still feel weird. Kinda cold.”

“Would it help if I held you? You recharged better that way.” Megatron pointed out.

“I don’t wanna roll over and wake you up on accident.” Rodimus lifted his helm to look at Megatron, “I toss a bit when I recharge.”

“You didn’t that first night,” Megatron scooted over and patted the berth next to him, “And if you do it’ll be fine, I promise.”

Rodimus looked hesitant, almost like he was going to refuse, but his optics looked heavy for a moment just before he closed the distance between them to curl himself close to Megatron’s chassis. One of his arms gently moved across Megatron’s abdomen in a half embrace. He felt Rodimus take a few deep invents before relaxing completely.

“Thanks Megs.” Rodimus yawned.

Though the nickname was still questionable in his opinion, Megatron smiled, “Anytime.” He muttered, deciding he was grateful to have Rodimus in this moment. Maybe they didn’t always get along or see optic to optic, but he was glad to have his company. Happier even to have his support even though he didn’t deserve it.

Megatron was determined to earn it though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm schmoopy about the end of this chapter. I don't know if you could tell, if you've been here long enough maybe, but I love writing sleepy cuddles.
> 
> The only problem is that I usually write them when I'm sleep deprived 😭 And I end up falling asleep and not finishing the chapter lol


	28. Body Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Megatron talk about things and get better acquainted.

Rodimus sat on the edge of Megatron’s berth while he waited for the big mech to finish video conferencing with one of the constructicons—he couldn’t remember which and he couldn’t really bring himself to care enough to find out.

Apparently, things in Vos were going less than well. This time not because Starscream was the senator. Mismanagement of assets or something, either way, Megatron was about to head out to crack some heads out there and he was spending his last couple of hours before he left giving orders on how things should be once he arrives. And Primus help them if it wasn’t when he did.

Rodimus, having spent a lot of time catching up on his recharge for most of the past week, felt much better and clear helmed. Although he was still a bit freaked about the whole vision thing, he felt like he had been unnecessarily frightened by it. There wasn’t a threat alive that could handle him as Hot Rod, and now with his upgrade he was even stronger. And with all the extra security Megs assured him he would have, he should feel almost untouchable. The nagging idea of the prophetic dream hung over his helm but he was certain that if something did happen then he would deal with it like he always has. It’s gotten him this far hasn’t it?

With that said, he sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the berth, bored and looking to kill some time before his only social outlet left for three days. Now that Drift was gone, Rodimus felt like he had almost no one to talk to. Besides Thunderclash but there were some obvious reasons why he couldn’t go barking up that particular tree, all of them having to do with Rodimus being increasingly attracted to the big walking disaster. All his other friends were either busy— Ratchet, Wheeljack, or off on their own missions— Springer, Arcee, Bee, and Drift now. He felt lonely but he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, it might make him seem needy. He could always talk to Ultra Magnus but he always felt like the mech was two seconds away from reprimanding him at any given point.

Megatron ended his call and slumped into his chair, looking suddenly much older. The silver mech buried his face into his palm and Rodimus heard what might have been a low, muffled scream.

“Doing okay over there?” Rodimus called from where he sat.

“I’m looking forward to the day I don’t have to deal with this anymore.” Megatron mumbled.

“Which will be soon I hear,” Rodimus said, genuinely trying to cheer him up but the glare he earned suggested it backfired, “Lighten up Megs! You get to go on a little vacay for the week!”

“Yeah, and I get to try and sort out all 800 mistakes that were made in my absence. It’s incredible Vos isn’t on fire at this point.” Megatron grumbled.

“Don’t say that, Starscream might hear you.” Rodimus whispered jokingly, “A vengeful ex is a powerful one.”

“He is not my—” Megatron fumed but when he saw Rodimus’ smirk he cut himself off, “Slagger.”

“Sorry it’s just fun to tease you.” Rodimus flopped back onto the berth and wriggled his way to the center of it.

“Having fun are you?” Megatron droned, but Rodimus could hear him smiling.

“Yup! I think while you’re gone I might sleep in here still,” Rodimus said getting comfortable with the pillows and sighing contentedly, closing his optics, “Why does this berth seem so much nicer than mine?”

Megatron’s berth might not actually have been nicer in any real sense, but it was much, _much_ larger. It could accommodate at least two bots of Megatron’s size with room to spare, three with a little squeezing and maybe up to five if they all didn’t mind spooning one another and getting very well acquainted.

“It’s made of all the same materials, it’s probably just in your head.”

Rodimus opened his optics to see that Megatron had come to sit on the berth beside him. He close them again and smiled.

“Do you think Starscream will be happy to see you when you get to Vos?”

“Not likely. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t try something.”

“You think he’d try and kill you even though he’s a senator now?”

“You’re assuming that’s the only thing he’s capable of, there are still far worse things he could do without lifting one of his pointy little claws.”

“True. My bad.”

Rodimus felt the berth shift around him and he opened his optics to see Megatron had laid beside him, careful not to lay on the edge of Rodimus’ spoiler. The silver mech let out a relaxed sigh, his optics closed and a content smile adorning his features.

“Hey how did the rumor about you and Screamer start anyway?” Rodimus asked the first thing that popped into his helm as he tried not to stare.

“If he _ever_ heard you call him that,” Megatron laughed, looking over at him, “He’d blow a gasket, please make sure I’m there for it.”

“I will if you answer my question.” Rodimus asked, rolling onto his side and fixing him with pleading optics.

“How would I know? An autobot made it up.”

“What? Really?”

“Of course, you really think a ‘con made up something so slanderous about their leader?” Megatron scoffed, his red optics glinting with amusement, “Not to mention, Starscream would have had their helm on a pike in front of his office before noon, _the day of_ , if it had originated with us.”

Rodimus nodded, “Then how did it spread?”

“Skywarp.” Megatron said with a small grimace and shut his optics again.

Rodimus bit his lip, holding back a laugh as he grinned in thought. Skywarp was well known for being the rumor mill for both the decepticons _and_ the autobots. He was more chatty than any other bot he knew and couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

“So you don’t know how it started at all?” Rodimus pestered.

“Nope.” Megatron said simply.

“And you two never gave it any _reason_ to start?” Rodimus said with a smirk.

Megatron made a disgusted sound and glared at him, “If you’re suggesting what I’m thinking you are…”

“Hey I’m not saying anything! But you have to admit he’s like… Pretty.”

“Pretty insufferable, you even said that yourself.”

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Yeah but you don’t have to hear him speak while you’re making out.” 

“Ugh.” Megatron cringed loudly and Rodimus snorted.

“Why the sudden interest in that anyway?” Megatron asked.

Thinking for a moment, Rodimus played with the pillow next to him, “Just curious. Also, I don’t think I ever heard about you being with… Well, anyone else really. And if that was all just a rumor then I’m curious about your uh, history I guess.”

“My history huh?” Megatron smiled, his red optics flickering with playfulness., “Like a body count?”

Rodimus gawked, “Uh, I mean sure if you wanna put it that way!”

Megatron chuckled, “Well I can’t give you any more than that, as the success of our discretion stemmed from both parties being equally interested in it.”

“Oh come on, you can’t give me one name?” Rodimus pouted, “I could give you one of mine if you did.”

“Tempting but no.” Megatron smirked, “But I’ll give you a number if you still want it.”

Rodimus hesitated for half a second, “Yeah, I want it.”

“Four.”

Rodimus felt his optics bulge a little, “That few?”

“Is that a problem?” Megatron asked, his smirk still firmly on his lips.

“No, no, wait— does that number include me?” Rodimus asked with a dawning realization, “I mean we haven’t really—been _together_ like that but…”

Megatron chuckled again, “We’ve done enough for me to count you.”

Rodimus felt his optic bulge even wider, “I’m only number _four_?”

“How about you, do I get your number?” Megatron asked with a little tilt of his helm.

Rodimus felt a little self conscious, he’d never been with someone whose number was so low before he wasn’t sure how he’d react, “Yeah umm, it’s— well it’s higher obviously. It’s ten— wait no, eleven. You’re eleven.”

Megatron’s smile grew, “Were all of them significant others or…?”

“Eh, a few were one night stands, but almost half were boyfriends.” Rodimus admitted, feeling kind of shy about it.

“Hm,” Megatron had an odd look on his face.

“What?” Rodimus asked, a little worried.

“Nothing… Well, I’ll admit I’m a bit jealous of you.” Megatron said quietly, “Being a leader I had to be very careful about my relationships, especially after the Starscream rumor came about. I wish I had gotten a chance to experience… life a bit more.”

Rodimus had never really thought about that before, “Well, I can show you a thing or two if you’d like.” He said suggestively, letting his EM field flair to emphasize his flirting.

Megatron rolled to his side, “Oh can you?” He said darkly. The silver mech’s field responded to his advance with a wave of lust that only further egged him on.

“Yeah, if you’ve got the time I could show you some things right now…” Rodimus continued flirtatiously.

Megatron closed the distance between them quicker than he anticipated and he found himself closing his optics as he let the bigger mech claim his mouth in a searing kiss. He felt a nervous hand gently grip his waist before pushing him to lay flat on the berth. Megatron was now leaning over him, the hand moved from Rodimus’ waist to balance the silver mech’s large form above him. He might have felt scared by such an act if he didn’t know with utmost certainty that he could trust Megatron. His spark still fluttered quickly in his chest, and he felt warmth rising rapidly in his frame. He was hyper aware that Megatron’s wrist was brushing his side and he was already aching for more contact.

“I’m not very good at things like this, but I wanted to say that you do look rather enticing laying in my berth.” Megatron purred.

Rodimus smiled coyly, “I think you mean _my_ berth. I’ll be keeping it company while you’re away, remember?”

“Is that so?” Megatron smirked, his optics taking a mischievous glint. He swung his leg over Rodimus’s hips, straddling them tightly, “I hope you don’t mind if I make you work for it.”

Rodimus could only make a half strangled cry of understanding as Megatron’s valve cover slid away and he felt the soft mesh pressing against his codpiece. He pushed upwards with his hips out of instinct to feel the heat and wet pressing against him, allowing his charge to build as he did.

“I hope you don’t mind, for the sake of expedience it would be best if you did the spiking this time.” Megatron purred, leaning back to rest on his palms as he gently rolled his hips against Rodimus’.

“I don’t mind, I’d spike you any time.” Rodimus spoke but only half heard the thoughts that were spilling from his intake, his focus was almost entirely on the valve that was kissing his panels. By now he could feel his spike was pressing against its housing and he granted its release, hissing slightly when it pressurized against Megatron’s hot folds.

He felt more than heard Megatron chuckle, and it was enough to pull his attention to the mech’s half-lidded red optics, “If you do a good job, next time I’ll spike you.”

Rodimus smirked, “I like a challenge.” He moved his hands up Megatron’s shapely thighs to the large black hips the held him prisoner, squeezing the plating and feeling the coarse matte paint under his hands. He guided Megatron’s hips back just enough to allow his spike to slip against the soft mesh, biolights flickering along in response to his touch.

Rodimus felt the push and squeeze of calipers and heard Megatron grunt softly as he lowered himself down on his spike, sinking and rising with an easy rhythm. It had been so long since he last used his spike that he almost lost himself in the sensation of fluttering calipers on his spike, and he gasped loudly while gripping Megatron’s hips a bit harder. It was becoming more obvious that Megatron was going to be teaching _him_ instead of the reverse as the silver mech bounced indulgently on his spike, shuttering his optics as it hit at the right angle and bearing down on him for more. Rodimus was doing all he could to keep up as the pace quickened and he timed his thrusts to hit that same spot Megatron had been favoring.

When he regained a bit of self, Rodimus decided to try to be clever, sending heat to his hands as he massaged and plucked the joints of Megatron’s hips. The larger mech gasped as he sank further down from the warmth relaxing his joints and he leaned forward to hold himself upright on his forearms. Rodimus pounced to claim his mouth with his own, sucking and biting his lips, meanwhile using his hands to find new sensitive seams he now had access to. One hand kept its place on Megatron’s hip and slid to play with the gleaming red anterior node on the silver mech’s valve. Rodimus felt Megatron arch his spinal struts, a panting moan escaping his intake as he leaned his helm up. He kissed from the corner of Megatron’s lips to his neck cabling, savoring the metallic taste as he tried to suck as hard as he could on them.

“Ng, R-Rodimus…” Megatron’s voice stuttered as his pace became more languid, his valve pulsing, and Rodimus knew he was close.

Moving back from his neck, Rodimus cupped Megatron’s face so he could kiss his mouth once more. He stroked the hot little anterior node between his fingers in time with his deep thrusts and he heard Megatron whimper and Rodimus opened his optics and bumped their noses together.

“Overload for me,” Rodimus coaxed, his voice sounding a little more desperate than he wanted but he could care less in this moment, “Overload for me…Please?”

Megatron stiffened, silently gasping as his optics flared bright. Charge crackled over his frame, cascading over Rodimus as well, tipping him into overload shortly after Megatron. That valve cycled down on him in a way that he thought was going to drive him mad, and his transfluid emptied itself desperately into the silver mech. Rodimus must have blanked out for a few seconds because he opened his optics to Megatron straightening himself up, panting and still seated on his depressurizing spike.

“I think you did enough to earn some recharge in my berth.” Megatron said when he regained control over his vents.

“Enough?” Rodimus huffed.

Megatron pulled himself off of Rodimus, his panels slipping back into place before too much mess spilled out, “Hm, more than enough then.” The silver mech chuckled, a sound that Rodimus found himself turned on by at an inopportune time and his spike was already re-hardening.

“If you’re not satisfied, we can always go again.” Rodimus smirked, deciding to make the most of his situation and stroking himself openly.

Megatron looked a little surprised, which fed Rodimus’ ego a bit, “As much as I wish we could, I really should be getting ready to leave.”

Rodimus frowned, “Oh right.” He’d almost forgotten that the silver mech was leaving.

“Maybe when I get back,” Megatron said as he moved off of the berth, striding over to the wash racks, “We’ll have plenty of time then and,” Megatron turned to briefly smirk at him, “I’ll give you the spiking you earned.”

Rodimus felt his intake dry out a bit as he smiled back, “Sounds like a deal to me.” 

He lounged as he waited for Megatron to finish cleaning up so that he could use the wash racks himself. He might need to have a little private time as well, as his spike was pressing up against it’s housing, not liking being put away while he was still revved up.

For some reason, Rodimus felt strange. Other than his half pressurized spike making him uncomfortable, he was plenty satisfied. As his thoughts came around to their previous conversations though, a nagging feeling— a question even— sat at the back of his processor. He chewed his lip, thinking of a good way to ask it. If Megatron left without him doing so, it would surely bother him for days. So when the glistening, still wet, form of Megatron emerged from the wash racks, rushing to dry and respond to a message on his computer at the same time, Rodimus cleared his intake.

“Hey, Megs?” Rodimus said as casually as he could while keeping his voice low, as if the confidence was gone from his words.

“Yes, Rodimus?” Megatron must have noticed because, despite being in a hurry, he stopped to look at him over his shoulder.

“I was wondering,” Rodimus shrugged, “Of all the mechs on your list… Did you love any of them?”

Megatron was silent for a moment. If he was stunned, his face didn’t show it. There was only the smallest hint of emotion in his red optics and Rodimus couldn’t parse what it was before it disappeared.

“Yes,” Megatron said simply, a ghost of a smile on his features, and after a moment he asked, “And… did you?”

Rodimus hadn’t expected the question in turn, though he supposed it was foolish that he hadn’t. But he didn’t have to think very hard about the answer.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that was them saying 'I love you' without actually saying it.


	29. Compromised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus has a bone to pick.

“Are you certain you want to come back to work already?”

Rodimus gave Thunderclash a sideways glance as they walked their morning commute to work, “I’m fine, I’m bored sitting at home. Besides, I was gone for a whole week, if I miss anymore time you’ll definitely get named Captain.”

“I still wish you had gone to see Ratchet to make sure you’re okay.” Thunderclash shook his helm, “Lack of recharge can be serious to your spark health.”

“I’m fine! I don’t need a doctor. I’ve been through _way_ worse!” Rodimus said with a laugh, “It really wasn’t that serious.”

“If you say so. You haven’t had any more pain in your chest though, right?” The colorful mech blinked at him, “I can’t have my Co-Captain getting too sick to come along on our adventure.” He said with a grin.

Rodimus gasped, “Wait, seriously? Did you get that approved?”

“Sort of, Ultra Magnus doesn’t recognize the title because he dislikes the implications of the wording, but on the paperwork we’re good to go.” Thunderclash explained.

“Yes!” Rodimus pumped his fist into the air, “And yeah, don’t worry about me, I’ve gotten good recharge the past several nights, I’m ready to be back.” He assured while trying to keep his excitement from spilling over.

More than ready, Rodimus thought to himself. He had a few things he wanted to address as soon as he could get back and he was trying to get through the commute without Thunderclash getting suspicious. He didn’t need the colorful mech trying to stop him by being the noble oaf that he was. Rodimus had a bone to pick and as they neared the senate building he began to mentally prepare himself for what was surely going to turn into an argument. One he was determined to win.

“Right, see you at our usual time?” Rodimus said as he started off in the opposite direction of Thunderclash.

“Uh, yes of course. Where are you going?” Thunderclash asked.

Rodimus stopped in place and looked over his shoulder at him, “Oh you know… My office.”

“You’re office is that way,” Thunderclash indicated forwards down the adjacent hall, “Where are you really going?” The big mech tilted his helm at him.

“I’m just going to go have a word with Tyrest about something.” Rodimus admitted, “You know… Prime stuff.”

“Hm,” Thunderclash still looked doubtful, “Well alright, see you later.”

Rodimus breathed a sigh of relief when the big mech was out of earshot, hardly believing it had been that easy to get the big mech off his back.

* * *

Thunderclash was nearly to his own office when he stopped himself in place.

Something about Rodimus’ actions had confused him and it had been bugging him since they had parted. Now he realized it was because something wasn’t quite right. Rodimus hated his lessons with Tyrest. In fact he actively avoided having to see the judge if he didn’t have to. It was just plain out of character for him to be going to see him for any sort of advice or council. With that in mind, Thunderclash turned around, thinking that even if he was wrong it was probably better to make sure than to have done nothing at all.

He remained calm though deep down he had a sinking feeling. He felt bad that he didn’t wave to the bots who greeted him as he passed but it was all he could do to keep himself from running down the halls. He had no logical reason for being so panicked but the fact that the speedster had lied to him initially about going to see Tyrest set alarms off in Thunderclash’s processor. Something just wasn’t quite right.

He arrived at Tyrest’s office and stood outside the door for a moment, hearing voices within. He hesitated, maybe he had been worried for nothing… The moment passed abruptly when he heard a slam come from inside and he quickly fumbled with the door to open it.

* * *

Rodimus stepped into Tyrest’s office, not even bothering to knock, startling the two occupants within. Tyrest, of course, sat behind his desk looking as passively dismissive as ever but he was also accompanied by a tall, thin, white and blue mech with yellow optics. Rodimus had only ever met the mech once before, knowing him to be some kind of therapist or something, but he couldn’t remember his name for the life of him. He didn’t matter though, because Rodimus was here for one mech and one mech only. Whatever they might have been discussing could wait.

“Rodimus, was there something you needed?” Tyrest asked, sounding irritated.

“Yeah, I’d like a word with Judge Tyrest.” Rodimus said pointedly, shooting a glare at the other mech.

The white mech chuckled, “I’ll just take my leave then.” He said as he retreated away, his yellow optics lingering for an uncomfortable amount of time on Rodimus himself.

Ignoring the odd mech, Rodimus strode forward to stand right in front of Tyrest.

“Have a seat—”

“I’ll stand, thank you.” Rodimus said curtly, cutting off the judge before he could feign any decency or decorum that Rodimus didn’t care for either way.

“Well,” Tyrest leaned forward, his optics narrowing, “What did you need of me?”

“I need you to give my conjunx his job back,” Rodimus said with venom, “And to stop holding meetings of the council whenever I take a sick day.”

Tyrest rotated his head at an angle to give him a patronizing look, “The world turns on, young Prime, regardless of where you find yourself or the state you are in. Decisions must still be made in your absence.”

“Not ones that involve removing mechs from their position in office.” Rodimus crossed his arms over his chest.

“On the contrary, I would say that doing so in your absence was necessary, as you can hardly be impartial seeing as he is your… _bonded_.” Tyrest said with a knowing tone, as if daring Rodimus to speak further. 

Rodimus’ face twitched in anger but he kept his composure, “Apparently neither can you.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He asked so passively it made Rodimus grit his dentae.

“Don’t play dumb, Tyrest,” Rodimus hissed, “You only target Megatron, everyone else who has fragged up has gotten plenty of passes, but Megatron can’t keep up with the enormous task of repairing the planet—

“A planet he himself destroyed.”

“And you won’t let him make it right!” He shouted, “He’s done nothing but agree to everything the Autobots have proposed since day one of the treaty! He’s trying to make things work! He wants to _make amends_ , can’t you see that?”

“For a war he started, for the many crimes committed under his name, there is no work he can do,” Tyrest stood from his chair, his tall form swallowing up the natural light behind him and casting a dark shadow throughout the room and over Rodimus, “No amends he can make, that will undo the unjustness of his actions.”

Rodimus shook his helm in disbelief, “You act like the Autobots never had a hand in any of the dirty work. You think you’ve swept it all under the rug don’t you? The Decepticons and the Autobots are one and the same in the amount of energon we’ve spilled, in the crimes we’ve committed. If we’re ever to survive as a species, we need to find a way to forgive each other, not just shift the blame to the easiest target!”

“The victors of war have written the histories for the next generation for eons, this is no different.” Tyrest said simply.

Rodimus slammed his fists down on the desk, “Autobots didn’t win the war—NO ONE won the war! Peace was only possible when both sides realized what _we_ had done to our race, and to many others, and decided to change. We set aside our differences, for the betterment of our kind, the universe, _and_ to stop the quintessons. But none of that would have been accomplished— would have even been _possible—_ without the help of the Decepticons, the ones loyal to _Megatron_ and their original cause.”

“You obviously need more time to rest, as you’re not thinking clearly Rodimus.” Tyrest said forcefully, his optics darting just past Rodimus for some reason.

“I’m seeing things clearer than ever. Let’s not forget, you’re a _judge_ occupying the seat of the _Prime_ on the council! I think you’ve gotten far too comfortable there.” Rodimus accused, pointing a finger up at the judge.

“I’ve heard enough of this,” Tyrest swept his arm out in front of him, his calm demeanor cracking before Rodimus’ optics, “Rodimus Prime, you are out of line—”

“Oh, _I’m_ out of line? I think _you’re_ out of line, Tyrest!” Rodimus spat, “And I think you should step down from your position.”

Tyrest’s optics narrowed to slits as they looked down on him, “Think about what you are saying Rodimus. Are you ready to guide our people? You were the one who put me in this position, who gave me the right to exercise the law, and my better judgement, as I saw fit. Can _you_ do this job better than _I_? Because if I leave here, I will be taking my guidance, and my Enforcer, with me.”

Rodimus flinched, searching the intense yellow optics of the judge for any sign of a bluff. Perhaps he thought he could get away with leading the council without Tyrest, but he often leaned heavily on Ultra Magnus for advice when it came to politics and law. He couldn’t do it on his own, at least not now, and a part of him doubted if he ever would. He’d let his anger get the better of him, he had only come down to argue for Megatron’s job back but got carried away. So Rodimus bit down on the inside of his cheek and looked away from the menacing stare of the judge.

“You’re right,” Rodimus conceded with a harsh whisper, “I’m not ready.”

“Then I will remain in this position until you are,” Tyrest said, his tone much softer now, “And when that happens I will gladly step down. For now—

“You’re still going to give Megatron his job back.” Rodimus interrupted, earning another glare from the taller mech so he changed his tone, “Please, he wants to make things better and I know he can.”

Tyrest’s jaw flexed for a moment, “Very well. I did receive a message from him asking to remain on one of the city projects. I will grant him this.”

Rodimus swallowed down a lump he didn’t realize had formed in his intake.

“Now, Thunderclash, would you please take Rodimus back to his office.” Tyrest said lazily, retaking his seat.

Rodimus whirled around in shock, only to find none other than the brightly colored form of Thunderclash standing in the doorway. His red optics wide and likewise surprised. Rodimus felt his whole body heat up like a furnace. How long had he been standing there like that? How much had he heard? Rodimus recoiled at the thought that Thunderclash had to see him shouting like a petulant sparkling or that he had seen him cave to Tyrest’s logic at the end of it all.

So Rodimus set his jaw and moved passed the big mech in the doorway and started off towards his office without prompting, keeping silent as he did and not looking at Thunderclash even though he could feel the colorful mech following behind him. When he finally got to his office he stepped inside without a word but before he could close the door behind him, Thunderclash followed him in. He turned away from the big mech in shame and crossed the room to lean on his desk, feeling that a lecture was probably coming and braced himself for it as he heard the door close.

“Listen, ‘Clash,” Rodimus started, “Whatever you heard back there, I’m… It’s not…”

“I hadn’t realized you and Tyrest had such a tenuous relationship.” Thunderclash commented, “Or that you had given him his position on the council…” He trailed off.

Rodimus looked at him now, his magenta optics seeming much more apologetic than questioning.

“Yeah, I uh… I never felt right taking over for Optimus after everything that… Everything that happened,” Rodimus paused, “I just was suddenly a _Prime_ , you know? And I still don’t know what that really means… So when Tyrest first offered to teach me I also asked him to act in my place until I felt ready. Only Ultra Magnus knew that until now.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Thunderclash said quickly, “I understand this was a private matter and I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

“It’s okay Thunders,” Rodimus tried to reassure with a smile, “I know you wouldn’t.”

“And I apologize for intruding,” Thunderclash said, scratching the back of his helm awkwardly, “I just… Got worried when I realized you lied to me, it’s not something you usually do.”

Rodimus looked down at his feet for a moment, feeling a little ashamed, “Yeah, I’m not very good at it. Sorry. For lying and for worrying you.”

“You had your secret to keep, I understand.” Thunderclash paused, “And, for what it’s worth, I think it was great of you to stand up to Tyrest for Megatron.”

Rodimus looked up at the big mech, surprised, “Oh right, you heard that too… That’s actually the whole reason I went down there but Tyrest just gets under my plating so badly.”

“I could see why just from the small bit I overheard.” Thunderclash nodded.

“He doesn’t want to admit it but he just wants Megs to fail. And I… I can’t stand it.” Rodimus seethed.

“It isn’t fair,” Thunderclash chuckled, “For one who speaks of justice, Tyrest can hardly say he’s entirely just himself.”

“Right?” Rodimus felt his frame relax finally enough to sit down in one of his desk chairs, “The mech can be so exhausting to talk to because he’s so high and mighty.” He huffed, “Do… Do you think I made a mistake by letting him stay in my position? He’s a biased judge so he’s not exactly fit for the role.”

“Well,” Thunderclash came over to sit beside him, looking him in the optics, “He is fair when it comes to the law, I’ve never known him to misinterpret laws for his own gain. He just has it out for Megatron politically, which while that isn’t good at least he isn’t unfair to anyone he wants to. And if you don’t think you are ready to lead then you should take your time to make sure you are. Though, I will say that there is no real preparation for being a leader besides _leading_. You will hardly ever feel worthy of your place until you have taken the time to fulfill your duties.”

Rodimus frowned at that, looking down to fidget with his hands, “What if I mess up? What if I disappoint them? What if—”

“Hey,” Thunderclash took one of his hands in his own, “Don’t worry about those things. You can’t be perfect, no one is, you can only promise to do your best and follow through. I believe in you, Rodimus. That’s why you’re my Co-Captain.” He said with a broad smile.

Rodimus let out a light laugh and returned his smile, “True… Maybe I will ask Tyrest to step down. After our adventure though, otherwise I might get too busy being a Prime to go off world.”

Thunderclash brightened, “Sounds good to me.”

Rodimus felt so much lighter now and was about to thank Thunderclash for talking with him when he noticed his hand was still captured by the big mech’s. He thought he should have felt embarrassed or awkward but instead he felt a warm reassurance when holding his hand. It felt… Right. He wanted to take that large hand in both of his own and never let go, and he even half a mind of doing so. Before he could however, Thunderclash noticed as well and pulled away, leaving Rodimus feeling strangely hurt by the action.

“Well I’ll leave you to your work,” Thunderclash said as he stood up hastily, “Should we meet after our break?”

“Uh, sure. Did you want to maybe head to Swerve’s together?” Rodimus asked without even pausing to think maybe the big mech wanted to be alone.

“Oh, I’d like to but I actually have a doctor’s appointment on my break. It’s just a routine checkup so I figured I would go really quick, I should be back in time for out meeting though.” Thunderclash frowned, “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Maybe tomorrow then.” Rodimus said, walking Thunderclash to the door of his office.

“Absolutely, tomorrow.” Thunderclash nodded and waved to him as he left.

Rodimus closed the door and slumped against it, feeling exhausted and incredibly awkward for some reason. He hated feeling so icky. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel so disappointed about not getting to spend his break with Thunderclash? He was literally going to see him right after for their meeting _and_ tonight when the big mech walked him home. 

Rodimus shook himself vigorously and stomped his way over to his desk, determined to take his mind off of this morning with some processor melting, monotonous work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when you can see the top of the roller coaster and you know that beyond that is a literal death drop? Getting some of those vibes writing these next few chapters....


	30. Cruel Irony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron asks Starscream for help and gets a predictable response.

“You aren’t needed.” Was the first thing out of Starscream’s intake the moment Megatron stepped off the transport.

It was customary in Vos for senators to greet auspicious visitors at the platform, as part of welcoming important members of society with good intentions and hospitality. But clearly the seeker wasn’t doing it because he was pleased to see Megatron nor because he wanted to show any such hospitality. On the contrary, his especially angry expression and crossed arms over his chest were sure signs that Megatron would be receiving anything _but_ that.

“Star—”

“So you may as well get back on the transport and leave.” Starscream interrupted, turning on his heel and stomping away.

Megatron growled as he pursued the seeker, “Starscream we have important things we need to discuss.”

“Inform my assistant,” Starscream waved his clawed hand and a stubby looking minibot strode up beside them with a data pad and light pen in hand. Their short legs having trouble keeping up with the two taller mechs, “They’ll get you squared away so I don’t have to look at your ugly mug—ack!”

Tired of Starscream’s smug posturing, Megatron grabbed ahold of his arm and wasn’t even surprised when he almost got a face full of claws as the seeker spun around on him. He only stopped inches from his face, glaring with his blood red optics as if he was barely restraining himself from tearing Megatron's optics from his helm.

“I need to speak with _you_ , not your assistant, we’re going to sort things out together,” Megatron said firmly, falling into a familiar place when he had to control the seeker as his second in command. It wasn’t easy then and things hadn’t changed in the slightest, “Do I make myself clear?”

Starscream twitched before a rather mean spirited smirk upturned the corners of his lips, he took a step forward to draw himself up to his full height and although he wasn’t nearly as tall as Megatron, the size of his wings and the sheer proximity would have been enough to shake even the most steadfast of sparks, “Careful who you try to boss around Megatron, such familiarity…won't look good in the optics of some.” Starscream hissed the last part as he looked at the offending hand that had ahold of his arm.

Megatron became aware of optics on him. Several bots who were operating the transport pads were staring at them. He released Starscream with a disgusted look, “We need to discuss matters about your city planning.” He said stiffly, a line he had rehearsed.

“ _My city_ doesn’t need your help.” Starscream hissed again before turning to leave, this time at a much slower pace so that Megatron could keep up.

“Tell that to your 619 infractions on record.” Megatron goaded while walking beside him.

“Lies, I don’t know where Soundwave got those numbers!” Starscream stuck his pointed nose into the air, “That mech has lost what little sanity he had left I guess.” He said under his breath.

“Which is why I’m here, so we can get to the bottom of this… In private.” Megatron insisted.

Starscream shot him a glance before giving an aggravated sigh and a twitch of his wings, “Fine. I can see there’s no getting rid of you otherwise.”

Megatron couldn’t help but release a vent of relief as he followed the irritable seeker to his personal transport. Starscream was still annoyed as they sat on the way to his office in the city hall. Megatron wondered if perhaps he had caught him in a particularly bad mood, because he usually would have calmed down by now and tried to get under Megatron’s plating as revenge. But the seeker did no such thing and was unusually quiet the whole ride, opting to not look at Megatron either.

When they arrived at the city hall, and the seeker was still quiet, Megatron couldn’t take it anymore.

“Is there something wrong Starscream?” Megatron asked, keeping his voice low.

“No.” Starscream said through gritted dentae.

“That’s not what it sounds like.”

“Maybe it’s your audials,” Starscream hissed, “You’ve been hanging out with the autobot poster boy for too long.”

“Rodimus is hardly anyone’s poster boy, least of all the autobots.” Megatron chuckled.

“Oh please.” Starscream rolled his optics, “As long as he’s got that _thing_ in his chest he’s going to be under the autobot’s thumb for the rest of his functioning. That’s all the Primes were _ever_ good for; being a figurehead.”

Megatron gave the seeker a doubtful look, “Rodimus is hardly one to be controlled.”

“If you say so.” Starscream shrugged, “But I say that every bot has a weakness to be exploited…” He said quietly. “You should count yourself lucky the camera bots in Vos know better than to follow me around, else our little spat might have ended up on the front of The Cybertron Daily.”

“We haven’t had a problem with the Photons since the wedding.” Megatron said blandly.

“Because they had other things on their minds, the Festival of Peace, the Cold Construction votes, the nominees for the election, then an entire week of ‘is the Decepticon Justice Division hiding in my morning energon?’” Starscream chuckled venomously, “Just you wait, they’ll get bored with fear-mongering and return to snapping candids on your front door before you know it.”

Megatron frowned as they entered the seekers office. Not a data pad out of place, and lavishly decorated to the seeker’s high end tastes, the room was immaculate. In fact, Megatron would wager a guess that Starscream hardly ever did business in here _because_ of it’s tidiness. Starscream was neat sure enough but this place didn’t even look used. But he was sure of one thing, due to the seeker’s paranoia he was certain this place was the cleanest room on the planet to talk freely.

“I didn’t come here to talk about your infractions Starscream,” Megatron said once the door closed and he heard it lock, “Soundwave overestimated the mistakes to justify sending me here. I need to ask a favor of you.”

If Starscream was surprised, he didn’t look it.

“Figures, you still use your influence over others to get your way.” The seeker rolled his optics, “And what is it you’ve come to ask me to do? It must be awfully _inconvenient_ if you’re looking for _my_ help.”

“I need you to find out who sent a message to my work account.” Megatron said, indicating to the computer at Starscream’s desk.

“That’s it? What’s the matter, is good old Soundwave losing his touch?” Starscream said as he took a seat, leaning on his elbow and giving Megatron a patronizing look.

“He ran into some issues. He said you might have better luck because you have more _experience_ in this area.” Megatron said, leaning on the desk.

“Pff,” Starscream scoffed before turning his computer for Megatron to sign in on, “What sort of message has gotten your tailpipe in such a twist that you need to know who sent it that bad?”

Megatron finished typing out his information, locating the message, before turning the computer back to the seeker, “Take a look.”

He waited for Starscream to react, watching his face as he scanned the screen. Almost as expected, Starscream’s face slowly split into a smirk, then into a grin before bursting into laughter. Megatron took a deep vent as he waited for the seeker to repose himself from his glee. It took a awhile, because as soon as he looked at either the message or Megatron he would resume laughing in full force.

“I’m sorry,” He said between gasps for breath, “You have to admit the irony is _breathtaking_!”

“Can you find out who sent it?” Megatron asked, all business less Starscream devolve into laughter again.

“Of course I can. Who do you take me for?” Starscream waved him away, “Begone, I’ll let you know when I have your mech.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’, I need quiet while I work and just looking at your face makes me want to start throwing things.” Starscream scowled, “Now go.”

Megatron huffed but he did as he was told. Inwardly praying that Starscream’s confidence would pay off at the very least. As he exited the office he had only take a few steps before realizing he didn’t have anywhere to go. Starscream hadn’t even given him the information on where he was supposed to be staying. Sighing for what might have been the millionth time today, Megatron set off in search of that little round mini that Starscream had called his assistant, in hopes they would know where he was staying. He rounded a corner and bumped into another mech who nearly dropped a rather volatile looking substance all over the floor.

“Pardon me,” Megatron said as he helped stabilize the masked mech, “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Oh, no worries,” The other mech said, his helm flairs blinking as he did, “If it spilled all over I have the neutralizing agent in my pocket, it’d probably only eat through 2 floors before stopping.” He said with a chuckle.

“Uh, right,” Megatron suddenly didn’t want his hands anywhere near the mech, nor the flask he was carrying, and he reeled back a bit, “Can I ask why you’re carrying such a substance out in the open uh…”

“Wheeljack, and that’s honestly something you’d have to ask Starscream. He asked for a personal demonstration for some reason.” The masked mech rolled his optics, “I think he just gets a kick out of destroying things.”

“Wheeljack? An autobot scientist?” Megatron said, recognizing the name.

“Engineer, and yeah, you got a problem with that?” Wheeljack said, putting a hand on his hip.

“No, just it’s… unusual for Starscream to have an autobot as part of his inner circle.” Megatron commented, trying not to sound offensive but by the way the scientist’s winglets fell he doubt he succeeded.

“I wouldn’t say I’m a part of his inner circle.” Wheeljack said quietly, “Anyways, I should get going, he gets upset when I’m late. Do you know if he’s in his office?”

“Uh, yes, but he is busy right now so he might turn you away.” Megatron warned.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Wheeljack said as he walked by, leaving Megatron standing slightly dumbstruck in the middle of the hallway. Wondering if maybe he had accidentally gotten himself into another mess.

Megatron sighed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, hopefully I can get another chapter out in a few days. My intense want to get this fic done is competing viciously with my desire to get every detail right DX But I really enjoyed writing Starscream and his flippant little attitude lol


	31. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus gets a surprise.

Rodimus grumbled.

He sat with his arms crossed and his body slumped down as far down as he could get away with, without actually being on the floor. His conversation with Tyrest might have ended on okay terms but the judge must have thought Rodimus needed reminding who was in charge. Because not a day later Tyrest assigned an ‘assistant’ to keep tabs on him and Thunderclash while they conducted their search for crew members. Which wouldn’t have been problem if not for the fact that the assistant was an _aft_.

“We’ll keep you in mind, thank you for applying.” Getaway, the aft— _assistant_ , told yet another prospective crew mate. It was a phrase Rodimus was coming to realize was synonymous with ‘you’re not what we’re looking for, keep moving’ and it made him feel sour.

“I thought he was swell,” Thunderclash chimed from between Rodimus and Getaway, which honestly was the only reason why he hadn’t started an argument with the other mech yet, “Bright and optimistic, willing to do whatever work comes his way.”

“Which will be just fine when we’re filling the janitorial roles, but for now we need to find skilled workers who can handle the maintenance and day-to-day running of a space ship.” Getaway said casually, leaning back in his chair, “If we don’t fill those roles first you might as well kiss your funding goodbye.”

“Maybe we would be going faster if you actually let _us_ conduct the interviews.” Rodimus muttered bitterly.

“Could you sit up Rodimus, I have an awful time hearing you from way over there while you’re slouching.” Getaway said, sounding rather snide but it might have just been Rodimus’ audials.

He sat up straight, huffing and about to give Getaway a piece of his mind when another couple of bots walked in. He recognized them immediately, well he recognized Whirl at least. The name of the little white and blue mini that accompanied him escaped Rodimus for some reason. That reason being he had been too distraught about Drift at the time to actually pick it up.

“Ah, Whirl, Tailgate, I was wondering when we’d be seeing you two.” Thunderclash beamed.

“Interviews are individual, one of you will have to wait outside.” Getaway said, his sickly sweet voice making Rodimus ill even from the other side of Thunderclash.

“Oh, sorry! He just came with me because I was nervous.” The mini—Tailgate if Rodimus heard right—said with a glance up at Whirl. The helicopter looked tense and crossed his arms.

Rodimus gave a nervous smile, “I’m sure we can make an exception this one time—”

“No exceptions.” Getaway interrupted, “One of you please wait outside.”

Fuming, Rodimus stood from his seat and opened his mouth to tear into the masked mech with all the wrath he could muster. Before he could, Thunderclash stood up between them.

“You know what, I think we all need a break! Yes, a break for refueling then we can pick this back up!” Thunderclash said, glancing in a rather nervous way between Getaway and Rodimus.

“Sounds like a plan,” Getaway said upon standing, “We’ll meet back up in an hour. Would you like to join me Thunderclash?” 

Rodimus thought his head was going to explode from the heat that the felt overcome him when he saw Getaway put his hand ever so slyly on Thunderclash’s upper arm. He clamped his jaw down and tasted flames and embers in his mouth and he tried to maintain composure. 

“Oh, no thank you, I have some business to discuss with my Co-Captain.” Thunderclash said, sounding cordial but not the least bit regretful which made Rodimus smirk.

“Alright then, see you in an hour.” Getaway said without batting an optic and having the nerve to look at Rodimus with a rather pleased smile, as if he had won something over and Rodimus was just too dumb to see it. The mech retreated with a sashay of his hips that made Rodimus actually want to start throwing things but he held it in until the mech was out of the room and likely out of earshot.

“Ugh!” Rodimus let out his frustration with a cry, looking up at the ceiling and balling his hands into fists, “He irks me _so much_!”

“He’s just doing his job Rodimus,” Thunderclash said, “Though I admit, it’s not how I would like to run things but we need to be compliant with his rules if we want to retain our mission status.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna complain.” Rodimus gave Thunderclash a look, sticking his bottom lip out. The big mech’s face split into what Rodimus might have called an ‘affectionate smile’ before he laughed good-naturedly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. But I do have some business I wanted to discuss with you, if you don’t have any plans that is. I have something I would like to show you, it’s a bit of a surprise.” Thunderclash indicated with a thumb over his big shoulder.

“Oh! Sure! I’m definitely not busy.” Rodimus said quickly when he realized he had gotten slightly caught up in Thunderclash’s handsome face smiling at him and that twinkle in his optic had stalled his processor for a moment…

“Alright, follow me!” Thunderclash said, taking off at a brisk pace and Rodimus had to almost jog to keep up.

Thunderclash seemed so excited and eager that Rodimus had to wonder what it could possibly be. Though there were only so many things that the colorful mech might surprise him with and, judging by the direction they headed in their alt-modes, it was likely a ship of some kind. Knowing that didn’t extinguish Rodimus’ excitement in the slightest though, he couldn’t wait to see it in fact. He’d always loved space travel and had wanted his own ship for a long time. He’d flown many small cruisers in the war but never a proper vessel. He wondered what it would look like and he tried to temper his expectations a bit. It didn’t have to look like his drawings or have flames and exhaust ports or be painted red and gold for him to love it. A ship that could fly is all he could ask for… But maybe Thunderclash would let him do some ‘remodeling’ if the budget and time allowed.

Rodimus was surprised when they stopped at one of the office buildings near the space port instead of the port itself but he followed along as Thunderclash took the steps almost three at a time with his long legs. It was all he could do to keep up before Thunderclash screeched to a halt at the door to the top floor. 

Thunderclash turned then with that handsome smile on his face, “Alright, close your optics!”

Rodimus gave him a look but did so anyway. He heard the door open and he had half a processor to peek but decided against it as he felt Thunderclash take his hands and gently pulled him along. His venting hitched in his chest as he felt those large hands wrap so delicately around his own, barely holding onto him, the pads of his large thumbs only lightly grazing the backs of his hands. He was pulled along for several steps before the hands disappeared and his spark fell as he reached out in confusion, only to feel the hands return to his shoulders this time, guiding him to turn to his left.

“Okay, you can open them.” Thunderclash whispered right next to his audial, making him shiver, “She’s not much but… She’s space-worthy.”

Rodimus opened his optics and felt his spark leap from his chest as he rushed to the edge of the railing to stare at a large space ship currently being worked on. It must have been 3 miles long and nearly a mile wide! Best of all were the stripes of red and magenta contouring the edges of the ship, it looked like he wouldn’t have to beg for too much glamour paint at least. Although it wasn’t the biggest ship he’d ever seen, and it had a few parts that looked like they had been blasted off, it was a spaceship! His ticket off this planet was sitting right _there_! 

“She’s incredible!” Rodimus shouted, unable to control his excitement as he turned around to look at Thunderclash’s beaming face, “Though I’ll admit I had suspected that this was why you brought me up here so it’s not much of a surprise.” Rodimus laughed.

“Well, maybe this will be,” Thunderclash said, stepping forward and pointing, “See that part of the hull they’re repairing?”

“Yeah?” Rodimus said, looking closely, not sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

“That’s where the name goes, she still needs one.” Thunderclash said, “I hope you can think of a good one.”

Rodimus turned on Thunderclash, his spark pounding as he stared up at Thunderclash, “You mean? I get to…?”

Thunderclash simply grinned at him.

Rodimus felt like his excitement was going to burn him from the inside out, he leapt up and spun in place. If felt like he had all the energy in the world burning inside of him with nowhere to go, he could almost scream! So he transformed and spun out, doing tight circles around the roof, just barely hearing Thunderclash’s laugh over the roar of his engines. He transformed back to root mode, leaping up as he did.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Rodimus chanted, locking optics with Thunderclash. And in a moment of complete spontaneity, he decided to run right at the big mech and leap into his arms, wrapping his own around Thunderclash’s neck to embrace him, “Thank you!” He cried as he held onto him tightly.

He let go and hit the floor on his pedes almost as quickly as it happened and he noticed that Thunderclash’s faceplates had darkened considerably on his cheeks and around his optics. He didn’t want to think about the implications of that or about how embarrassing that display had been, instead he grabbed the big mech’s hand and tugged him along behind him.

“Come on let’s go see her up close!” Rodimus said, feeling his own blush creeping across his face and relishing the feeling of Thunderclash squeezing his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this chapter. 
> 
> It's so much easier getting out these shorter chapters but I have literally so much to write that I push myself for longer ones lol


	32. A Thousand Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picture's worth...

Thunderclash hummed as he walked side by side with Rodimus.

He couldn’t recall the last time he had been so happy. Everything was all coming together, albeit slowly at times, with their new ship being set up for their mission and their crew almost assembled. Though that Getaway fellow had tried his best to get in the way, Rodimus put his pede down and they were able to get a full crew before yesterday was even up. There were still a couple more important positions to fill but those Thunderclash wanted to assign personally, and he already had a few mechs in mind. Today however, Thunderclash figured they could take a break from anything too tedious to simply enjoy their plans.

“—And then we can stop at this little grey planet in quadrant 46, which is one of the best surf spots for mechs who don’t agree with water, the liquid is much more joint friendly.” Rodimus added as he went over their map on their morning walk to the office. 

Thunderclash smiled at his excitement, “Sounds fun, I’m sure Riptide would love that.” 

Rodimus looked up at him, blue optics sparkling, “You’ve gotta try it too! I’m sure you’d like it!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Thunderclash mumbled, “I’m not exactly hydrodynamic.”

“That’s what the board is for! It’s super fun, at least give it a try, please?” Rodimus’ tone pierced Thunderclash. He’d come to realize that Rodimus, while never meaning to be rude, only ever said please if he was asking for something that was important to him.

“Of course I’ll try,” Thunderclash nodded, “And I’m sure I’ll sink to the bottom.”

Rodimus gave a snort, “We’ll get you some floaties then.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The two walked up the steps and paused at the top, seeing that they were early. Thunderclash glanced to his right and saw two mechs staring at them and he quirked a brow. They quickly when back to their data pads and moved away. So Thunderclash looked around and found many optics looking in their direction. All of them flicked their optics from their data pads and then back to them before realizing Thunderclash was looking their way and moving inside or around a corner. What really unnerved Thunderclash was their expressions, some of them looked shocked or unbelieving and others simply smirked or smiled knowingly. It sent chills down Thunderclash’s struts.

“I wonder if there are any spots the Camiens know—who am I kidding, the Camiens probably know a ton more spots for adventure. I can’t wait to get there and pick their processors.” Rodimus gushed, still having not noticed.

Hoping to keep it that way, Thunderclash swallowed a lump in his intake before gently putting a hand on Rodimus’ back to guide him inside, “I’m sure they do— let’s go inside while we’re still early.”

Rodimus drug his pedes slightly, “Pfft, I haven’t been early to this job _ever_. I think if I start now I might give Prowl even more paranoia. He’ll start asking me who I am and where I put the real Rodimus.” The speedster rolled his optics.

“Well,” Thunderclash was about to suggest Rodimus come and hang out in his office when a couple of smirks and down cast optics caught the corner of his optic, “There’s a first time for everything!”

They passed by a mech as they went in and Thunderclash couldn’t help but see a part of a worrying title on his data pad. By now Thunderclash was almost pushing Rodimus towards the speedster’s office, his complaints getting louder all the while, but he didn’t stop until they were behind closed doors an the could open up the news app on his data pad.

“What’s the big idea Thunders?” Rodimus huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

As soon as the app opened, Thunderclash let his jaw hit the floor, embarrassment creeping up his chassis. He looked at Rodimus and laughed nervously, because that’s all he found he could do as he handed the data pad to him.

Under the title, ‘Prime Replaces Boyfriend with Greatest Autobot of All Time’ with the sub title of ‘Has the Mission of Peace Been a Facade?’, were not one, not even two, but _three_ pictures of the two of them. Clearly taken when they had been on the rooftop and viewing their ship. The first one of Thunderclash holding Rodimus’ hands to guide him to the center of the roof, then another with their backs turned as he had faced him to see the ship. Then two more from when Rodimus leapt into his arms, the angle of which was damning if someone didn’t know the context. You couldn’t see their faces, only that Rodimus’ and his own helm were very close together.

Rodimus’ optics grew wide, making a small noise of distress as he turned around.

“I’m so sorry Rodimus.” He said bleakly, feeling like there was nothing else he could do.

“Why are you apologizing?” Rodimus asked, his voice full of barely restrained panic, “It’s not like you knew this would happen…”

“I didn’t even think of the possibility that we might have been followed…” Thunderclash trailed off, realizing that statement might have been the wrong one so he changed tactics, “It’s just a misunderstanding! I’m sure the council will understand—”

Rodimus gasped, spinning around, “You don’t think this might get our mission status revoked do you?” He asked in alarm.

“No, no…” Thunderclash paused, thinking, “Well, uh, maybe.”

“Thunders!” Rodimus groaned before stomping over to his desk to lean on it, “This is all my fault.”

“No! It’s going to be alright, it’s just silly conjecture of the media.” Thunderclash came over to reassure him, “We’ll explain what happened, and that we’re just good friends, and it’ll be fine!”

“Are you sure?” Rodimus asked weakly, his optics looking a tidbit more hopeful but still tinged with sadness.

“I promise, nothing is going to keep us from our launch day.” Thunderclash stated with determination, trying to will it into the universe.

Rodimus sighed and went over to sit down, running his hands over his face as he made tired noises, “Sometimes… I really hate being a Prime.”

Thunderclash felt his spark ache for Rodimus. The young prime didn’t deserve this kind of stress. He moved over to stand beside him and place an hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Meanwhile, he was thinking hard about their next move. They might get called down and questioned about the photos by the council. He wondered if it might make their case more believable if they went down there preemptively, or if it would make them look guilty. He supposed he should just be grateful that the pictures are from far away and don’t show how blissfully happy Thunderclash had been in those moments. And it pained him that the Photons had ruined the moment by capturing it and plastering it all over the news.

Thunderclash jumped as Rodimus sat straight up in his seat all of a sudden with an exclamation of, “Oh slag…"

* * *

“What do you mean this is all you have?” Megatron put his hands on his hips as he stared at the bored face of Starscream.

“I mean that you sent this message to yourself, dummy.” Starscream drawled, spinning in his chair.

“I did no such thing.” Megatron moved to examine the findings on the computer closer.

“Well then someone did, because it originated from _your_ computer. I already checked the security cameras during hours when it was sent, and no one accessed your office but _you_.” Starscream said, “At first I was confused too, undoubtably this is why Soundwave wanted _me_ to deal with it, that annoying glitch, because the message was bounced all around Iacon before it gets to this tower,” Starscream pointed with a claw on a map, “And then its like the signal repeats. But it doesn’t. It just goes back to _your_ computer.”

Megatron chewed his cheek in thought, “What about hours before it was sent? Maybe the perpetrator used a program to delay the message.”

Starscream groaned, “I was hoping you wouldn’t think of that, it is _possible_ but that would be weeks worth of data to sift through as we don’t know _when_ they could have done it.”

“Did you try looking at the logs for who accessed my office? Or my computer?” Megatron asked, growing angry and Starscream’s attitude. Megatron ignored a notification on his HUD that alerted him to an incoming call frequency in favor of staring the seeker down.

“Yes, I accessed the logs for the past 8 weeks and for your office it’s only been you, the cleaning bots, and a couple council members during the day when you’re there. As for your computer only you and Ultra Magnus have accessed it so unless you think the Enforcer did it…”

Megatron shook his helm, “Look further back, there has to be something.”

“Why does there _have_ to be anything? Maybe this was all a joke. Maybe a cleaning bot thought it would be funny.” Starscream crossed his arms.

Megatron stood up straight and pressed his palms to his helm in both aggravation and despair. He didn’t know how to get Starscream to take this seriously without telling him about the visions Rodimus was having. While they hadn’t explicitly said they would keep them a secret, he felt like telling the seeker might be infringing on Rodimus’ privacy. While he could trust Starscream with his own problems, he didn’t entirely trust him with Rodimus’. The seeker didn’t owe _Rodimus_ a debt.

“I have reason to believe that there may be a legitimate threat out there,” Megatron said slowly, “I just want to be _sure_.” He felt a notification go off on his HUD again and he silenced it without looking at it, not wanting to be interrupted right now.

Starscream gave him a skeptical look, “And what, in all your _wisdom_ , gives you that reason?” The jet’s scathing glare narrowed, “This has something to do with the Prime doesn’t it?” He whispered dangerously.

“What makes you say that?” Megatron asked, genuinely curious how the seeker came to that conclusion.

“You’re soft for him. Just like how you were with—”

“Enough, Starscream,” Megatron growled, “You told me you could find this mech, will you or will you not deliver on your promise?”

The seeker huffed haughtily, leaning back in his chair, “Fine, but it’ll take me some time. I’ll need you to find a way to send me your computer so I can examine your set up… And I may need to bring in a second set of optics to help me.”

“Who?” Megatron couldn’t help but feel a bit cagey, “Not that autobot scientist you have walking around the building with _open corrosive materials_.” He asked in utter disdain.

“I’ll be the judge of the merit of _my_ scientists thank you very much.” Starscream hissed.

Megatron sighed roughly, “Fine, but if he talks to anyone about this… Well he’ll be hearing from me, that’s all I’ll say.” He turned away and began to leave, he still had real work to be doing while he was here for his last day.

“It stings doesn’t it?” Starscream’s voice came from behind him, taunting.

Megatron stopped before the door and pivoted to look at the smirking jet, “What?”

“Being so powerless.” Starscream said, crossing his leg and bouncing a heeled thruster in a mock playful way, “It feels like you’re trapped under someone else’s pede. Can’t ask them to remove it. Can’t remove it yourself. No matter what you do, it _crushes_ you.”

Megatron watched the anger flash behind Starscream’s optics.

“I’m sorry, Starscream.” Megatron said, “If that’s what you think I did to you.”

“Don’t be,” The seeker’s smirk fell to pieces and he turned away to face the window instead of Megatron, “If you hadn’t have done what you did, I wouldn’t be here now would I?”

Megatron wasn’t sure what else to say. He turned back to the door—

“Oh, by the way, I would read the morning news before going anywhere important today.” Starscream’s voice said in low tones, a warning.

Megatron felt uneasy all of a sudden and left without another word. He needed to go back to pick up some of his documents anyway, so he decided to heed Starscream’s advice while he did. The walk back to his room was eerily quiet. He passed no other bots in the halls and little to none on the streets. Which wasn’t unusual for the sky city of Vos, since most of it’s occupants could fly, but the atmosphere it created for a grounder like him was chilling at times. This was definitely one of those times.

He made it to his hotel lobby before he noticed the stares. Bots standing in corners of the room, whispering to one another. A whole manner of mechs looking at him over their data pads or morning energon. Megatron quickly escaped the gaze of their optics as he darted up the stairs to his room instead of waiting for the lift. He entered his room feeling slightly panicked, his helm ringing with questions. Was this what Starscream had been warning him about? What did it have to do with the news?

He grabbed a data pad and flipped open the news app.

And felt his spark sink.

He sank into a nearby chair. Confusion and, strangely, hurt swirled in his spark. He read the title over again and again, not quite getting it to sink in. He started reading the article, which alleged that there was some kind of romance going on between the Prime and the Greatest Autobot of All Time, which was how the article referred to Rodimus and Thunderclash in it’s entirety. It made Megatron nauseous with it’s wild assumptions that the two of them intended to use their trip to the colonies as some kind of romantic escapade. Which actually gave Megatron a bit of relief because he knew that much wasn’t true, so how much of everything else could be? Putting the data pad down with a sigh, Megatron sat in silence as he tried to weather the storm of emotions running in his helm.

As much as he wanted to believe that none of the article was true, a nagging voice in the back of his processor reminded him that Rodimus wasn’t expected by anyone to remain monogamous to Megatron, and that the two had been hanging around each other an awful lot… But he also refused to give into any of the misinformation that the article was spewing. He’d only listen to Rodimus, and what _he_ had to say about this. And if the speedster really was dating Thunderclash then he would have to be understanding.

Megatron took a deep invent and exvented slowly, placing his helm in his hands. A notification popped up on his HUD and he accessed it on his data pad, seeing it was a message from Rodimus. In fact, when he looked at the rest of his missed calls, they were all from Rodimus. The speedster must have also found out about the article.

He opened the message.

_Please call me._

* * *

Thunderclash watched as Rodimus paced his office.

It was clear the speedster had just realized that Megatron would also be reading the morning news, either now or later, and was trying to contact him. By the sound of the speedster's voice end his entire body language, this was clearly worrying him a whole lot. Thunderclash would be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious about it either. Megatron had asked him personally to watch over Rodimus while he was away, he could only imagine the betrayal the silver mech felt about this situation. Now he really couldn’t bear to look him in the optic, it had been hard enough the day he asked him because of the accidental kiss—

“He’s not answering!” Rodimus exclaimed, wringing his hands, “Do you think he’s ignoring me?” He sounded so distraught that Thunderclash felt his own spark squeeze in pain for him.

“No, I’m sure he’s just busy, he’s supposed to be working right now so just give him some time.” Thunderclash reassured, he almost reached out to touch him again but decided against it, “And he’s coming home tonight, right? You’ll have time to talk then.”

“I think I might explode before then.” Rodimus cringed.

Both of them jumped slightly at an alert.

“Well, just as predicted.” Rodimus sighed. 

Thunderclash nodded, the alert was a summon by the council to discuss something important, which could only be a reaction to the latest news. He tried to mask his nerves with a good natured smile as they walked through the halls but he could still feel the occasional stare as they made their way to the council chambers. Rodimus had noticeably retreated from him, walking at an arms length instead of next to him, his arms were crossed and his face drawn into a frown. Thunderclash wished so badly to put an arm around him to comfort him, to tell him things were going to be okay. But, for obvious reasons, he now felt that he couldn’t. He just hoped that the council would be understanding.

They arrived at the council room, though several members were missing. The only members present were Tyrest, Ultra Magnus, Elite-One, Jetfire, and Swindle, who had become somewhat of a galactic PR mech for Cybertron. Also present was Cyclonus, who stood off to the side with his arms crossed.

Thunderclash swallowed a lump in his intake, “Esteemed members of the council, I would first like to apologize—”

“There’s no need to apologize Thunderclash, the council recognizes that this incident was an accident.” Tyrest stopped him with a dismissive flick of his hand.

“You do?” Thunderclash asked in slight disbelief.

“Yeah, scrap like this happens,” Swindle grinned, “Doesn’t make it any less funny though.”

“Thank you for your input Swindle.” Ultra Magnus shot the smaller bot an admonishing look.

“Yes, in truth we don’t care about your private business, we called you here to address the issue of your publicity and to ensure you have the interests of the mission above all else.” Tyrest droned.

“You don’t?” Rodimus squeaked, “What I mean is—I mean we’re not even together—“

“Whether you are or not means nothing to us.” Elita-One rolled her optics, “We’re more concerned with your ability to do your jobs without causing a scandal every other week.”

“This image isn’t good for us,” Jetfire held up a data pad with the news article open, “This is supposed to be a serious mission to the colonies to retrieve troops, we don’t want mechs thinking you’re using government money to go on some kind of _couples cruise_.”

“Of course— I mean— Absolutely not!” Rodimus stammered.

Thunderclash joined in, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment despite himself, “We would never do such a thing!”

“We trust you wouldn’t, Thunderclash,” Jetfire chimed in, “But we wanted to be sure that it is clear that you are to keep yourselves out of the tabloids for the rest of the mission or we will be forced to take action.”

“Also, if there is something going on,” Elina-One gave a strangely knowing look to Thunderclash that made him gulp, “We ask that you keep it _discreet_.”

“No airing your breakups on the front page please.” Swindle snickered in the back of the room.

Thunderclash bit his cheek, utter embarrassment permeating his entire frame as he nodded. He could only glimpse Rodimus from the corner of his optic but he could see the speedster was also doing the same. There was no arguing against their metaphorical relationship at this point. The council had already made up its mind about them and was simply promising to look the other way as long as they didn’t bring anymore bad publicity with them. Which shouldn’t be a problem since they weren’t actually _dating_.

The two were dismissed, and they walked back to Rodimus’ office in silence, stopping outside the door to glance nervously at one another. Thunderclash was worried for Rodimus, he hoped that this situation didn’t cause a falling out with him and Megatron. He only prayed that the silver mech believed Rodimus more than the new bots.

“Well,” Rodimus said finally, “I guess we should probably uh, change some of our plans. All those stops might seem suspect.”

Thunderclash frowned, “I don’t think we need to change anything.”

Rodimus perked up, “But didn’t you hear…?”

“They said to stay out of the news,” Thunderclash elaborated, “But there’s not going to be any nosy Photons on our ship.” He winked.

The smile returned to Rodimus’ face, “Thanks, Thunderclash.”

“For what?” Thunderclash asked.

“You always know how to cheer me up.” Rodimus grinned, “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work I have… Calls to make.”

“Of course.” Thunderclash nodded before they parted ways.

As much as this situation could definitely have gone worse, Thunderclash felt overcome by a strange sense of despair. Rodimus had been so very quick to dismiss them being together and that made his spark ache. He knew it shouldn’t, since he had known from the very beginning that Rodimus and Megatron had something more to their relationship and had tried to keep his spark out of the equation. Clearly at some point he’d let himself get attached to the idea of Rodimus. Which was something he needed to undo, and quickly, before things got out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so... This chapter got really out of hand lmao. but I wanted to get all of this out at once and now I slightly regret life lol. I wanted to keep on track with the chapters though, and honestly this could have been LONGER lmao
> 
> Next week: Roddy and Megs have a lil chat that's been a long time coming.


	33. Past Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Megatron hash out what really happened...

Rodimus couldn’t sit still.

Ever since the news blow up while he was at work, he had only briefly heard from Megatron. A simple ‘We’ll talk tonight’ was sent his way and then nothing. Rodimus didn’t get nervous too often but a cryptic message from Megatron was chilling in _any_ context.

Wringing his hands and standing up from the couch for what might have been the fifteenth time, Rodimus jumped as he heard the chimes from a code opening the door to his apartment. He stilled, staring at the door as it opened to reveal Megatron’s tall form which fit just perfectly through the doorway that was so much taller than Rodimus. The door shut behind the silver mech who locked optics with him immediately, his expression completely unreadable but filled with emotion.

“Megs, I-I can explain—

“It’s okay Rodimus,” Megatron stepped forward, “I’m sorry I pushed this off until now but… I had to see you to talk about this.” He crossed the room to place a hand on Rodimus’ shoulder, “Let’s just sit down and… we can talk.”

Rodimus swallowed hard, not liking the intonation on the word ‘talk’ but nodding all the same. The two sat and Rodimus cleared his voice box again.

“Okay, uh, well like I was saying— It wasn’t what it looked like, it was only a hug! Those press bots just had a bad angle, I swear!” Rodimus started to explain again but Megatron put a hand up.

“Rodimus, I believe you, but even if it wasn’t just a bad angle or the press hunting for stories… I don’t expect you to be completely… _monogamous_ for a lack of a better term. We married for a treaty and while I appreciate your loyalty to me, I also understand that you will eventually seek partnership elsewhere.” Megatron said slowly, “You shouldn’t have to hide if you want to be with someone else… I know better than most about hiding the bot you love because of societal pressures.” Megatron looked away with a shake of his helm.

Rodimus was trying to follow his words as close as he could but his attention latched onto that last statement, “Hiding?” He asked quietly.

Megatron nodded, “I meant to tell you sooner,” His shoulders slumped slightly and a sad smile tugged at his mouth, “Before the treaty… Before the ceasefire even… Optimus and I had come to an agreement to talk things through in private. No one knew. It rekindled our friendship and… Something more.”

Rodimus stared, his optics wide, his spark painfully beating against the matrix in his chest.

“We didn’t want our factions to get out of hand and we feared the decepticons especially would be outraged by our coupling. So we kept it quiet… Sometimes I wish we hadn’t.” Megatron’s voice shook and faded into nearly a whisper. His optics were unfocused, their gaze was far away, as if he was remembering something nostalgic.

Rodimus felt his spark flip as a realization dawned on him.

Megatron _loved_ Optimus.

It all made sense. Why the peace talks had gone so well, why the marriage was written into the treaty, all of it was planned by Optimus and Megatron so they could be together without arousing suspicion. That notion made Rodimus realize, while sitting on his too large couch in his too big apartment, where he couldn’t even reach the topmost shelves…That he was totally out of place. He was living a lie, a sham. He wasn’t supposed to be here, Optimus was. Rodimus was living in _his_ home, doing _his_ job. And even worse he was conjunxed to the bot _he_ had loved…

_All because of one stupid decision he had made._

Rodimus heard the wind outside scrape against his window, the noise ringing hollow in his audials. Megatron stood to go to the control panel, closing the shutters on the night sky and muffling the noise from the oncoming storm.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Megatron said after a brief silence, “I never found the right moment to bring it up. I’m only doing so now because… And I don’t mean to be suspicious, but I’ve sensed something going on between you and Thunderclash. You’ve become very close, sometimes you seem closer than you are with Drift.”

Rodimus felt his faceplates heat up, “Yeah well, things between me and Drift have been awkward since… Well since the war ended and so did our previous relationship.”

Megatron tilted his helm, his brow furrowing, “You… Dated?”

Rodimus cleared his intake again, “Yeah uh— I mean since you told me about Optimus I guess I should uh,” Rodimus scratched the back of his helm, “This was awhile ago, before I became a Prime. We were dating while with the Wreckers but Impactor was strict about ‘romantic relationships’ so we just snuck around. But when the ceasefire happened and the treaty was being finalized he— I guess, realized he still had feelings for Ratchet and we ended things.”

Rodimus felt a strange sense of relief in telling Megatron this and continued, “We still stayed really good friends of course but… There’s a wall where there used to not be. I guess that’s why I fell so hard for Thunderclash.” Rodimus clapped a hand over his mouth, realizing too late what he had said. He looked to Megatron who simply gave him a smile.

“Rodimus, you don’t have to hide from me, I’m glad you’ve found a mech that makes you so happy.” Megatron rejoined him on the couch, “And I think if you want to pursue Thunderclash, you should.”

“Really?” Rodimus felt a bit of hope brighten his spark for a moment before he remembered, “Actually, I can’t. Even if I wanted to. After the picture, the council threatened to take away our funding if we get caught like that again.”

Megatron laughed, a sound which startled Rodimus, “I never thought _you_ would be turned away so easily. So what? Just don’t get caught.” He clapped a hand on Rodimus’ back, his expression turning more serious, “Don’t wait for anyone else’s approval Rodimus… You never know how much time you actually have.”

Rodimus felt a vent catch in his chest as he nodded, knowing what he meant. He and Optimus hid and probably ended up wasting most of their time together. Precious time that could have been spent being happy…

“But we still need to bond…?” Rodimus asked warily.

“We will. You still promised to do so before you leave.” Megatron wrapped an arm around him, “I intend to hold you to that, but I don’t want that to stop you either.”

Despite being so close to Megatron’s spark, Rodimus felt he couldn’t have been further from him. The sadness in his voice, the smile that didn’t quite reach his optics, all told a story that Rodimus had heard before. Megatron was pushing him away. He wanted him to be with Thunderclash, sure, but that’s because he had lost his love. His real love. And the silver mech probably knew there was nothing Rodimus could do to replace that and was trying to spare him the pain of trying. Drift had done much of the same by leaving Rodimus. It hurt. But it was a survivable hurt.

It paled in comparison to the truth that Rodimus kept behind his glossa. A truth that he now knew would devastate Megatron if he ever found out. So when Megatron retired for the night to finally rest up, Rodimus stayed up a while longer, listening to the storm rage outside for a time while he let the weight of his actions settle upon him. 

Maybe in another universe there was a Megatron and an Optimus that had actually gotten married. That were living happily together in their apartment. And a Hot Rod that finally got over himself and befriended Thunderclash too. A perfect world, where things had worked out for the best. Everyone lived and no one was unhappy… Except maybe Starscream but he was never happy.

Rodimus smiled at his own inward joke.

But that wasn’t the reality he was living in. Optimus died. _Rodimus_ lived. Megatron loved Optimus, and Rodimus…

Rodimus didn’t know what his spark wanted. He feared that if he did pursue Thunderclash that Megatron would completely pull away from him. He didn’t want to undo all the progress that they made. They were real conjunxes now, still not bonded but acting the part—feeling it even. Rodimus knew he had feelings for Megatron, he’d known it for awhile. He wanted to be able to make him happy. To make him smile at the end of the day, to joke with him about Starscream being a menace to public safety. But the more Rodimus tried to the more Megatron pushed him away. When he asked the silver mech if he had loved any of his partners… All he said was ‘yes.’ A yes that was clearly meant for Optimus… But Rodimus couldn’t be mad about that. Optimus was, well… _Optimus_.

Megatron not loving him wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He knew it was a long shot that either of them would even get along in this marriage. Who could have predicted he would fall in love with _Megatron_ , anyway? He would just have to move on. He could do that, it wasn’t that hard. He’d done it before. It had been the same with Drift, the two of them got along just fine, and they were amica’s now. All that was necessary for Rodimus and Megatron was to get along enough for them to bond and keep to the treaty. They had come this far, Rodimus just didn’t want to muck it all up like he had a tendency of doing.

Rodimus stood from the couch and wiped at his stupid leaking optics.

He guessed the worst part was that he wasn’t even sure if Thunderclash felt that way for him yet. They had already technically kissed, though Rodimus hadn’t had the nerve to turn and see the big mech’s reaction to know whether he had liked it. As of right now, they were just friends, good friends. In fact, he didn’t know what he did to deserve a friend like Thunderclash, a friend who gave incredible gifts like letting him name their spaceship. 

Rodimus let himself smile as warmth filled his spark. The same warmth he got every time Thunderclash smiled at him, supported his ideas, and constantly tried to inspire him with confidence. Coupled with the fact that Megatron himself wanted him to be with Thunderclash, Rodimus decided to let that feeling be the reason to give it a try. He’d test the waters the next time he saw the colorful mech, privately of course, and see if he could get a response.

Rodimus snuck back into the room with Megatron, happily snuggled up a few feet away to avoid waking the larger mech. He watched the shapes of Megatron’s face in the darkness while he tried to fall into recharge. Instinctively, he put out a hand and reached toward the big mech. His arm stopped short of touching the armor plating on Megatron’s shoulder. He curled his fingers in the sheets, leaving the arm outstretched between them, so close to making contact but not quite close enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this over and over because I wanted to get it right. Its one of the few scenes I had envisioned when I began this fic. One of the major points of conflict you might say. We're about the middle of act 2 and I've got 2 more to go. I was thinking about dividing up the last 2 acts into another fic because of how long this one is getting. Plus the next act has a surprise in it that changes some things and I don't wanna tag it because of spoilers (it's nothing bad though lol) I guess I'll see about it when I get there though. 
> 
> For now, I got hired at a real job lol, it seems to be a mon-fri 9-5 kind of gig and so I might be posting more on weekends. I'll let you know on my Tumblr @ dangerouslyclassyhottub when I might need to skip a week. If it's fairly regular work hours I don't think it'll be much of a problem for me to continue posting once a week.


	34. Flirtations in Dark Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets a surprise.

Thunderclash smiled at his co-workers as he made his way to Rodimus’ office for their, now only bi-weekly instead of daily, meeting. After the first week of trying to keep out of the public optic, they had decided over email to downplay their meetings while the story was still circulating the building. And, if the stares and winks Thunderclash kept getting were any indication, it probably still was.

He opened the door to the office and sighed in relief as he closed it, glad to be away from the awkwardness. But as he turned to see Rodimus, the speedster wasn’t exactly where he thought he’d be.

Instead of behind his desk, he was perched atop of it with his legs crossed over one another, leaning to one side with a data pad in one hand and resting on the other. He gave Thunderclash a— dare he even _think_ it— _sultry_ look and he felt his processor stop completely. It had been a week since he had last seen the speedster so he guessed he had recovered from the embarrassment but he didn’t think Rodimus would be so chipper so fast. He thought at least he would be a bit somber because of Megatron but Rodimus didn’t even appear phased… So Thunderclash defaulted to a smile and he held up the plans in his hands.

“I—,” He cleared his intake and reset his vocoder, “I brought the final schematics for the ship. She should be done with repairs in a couple weeks but we can add a few additions while they’re still working.” He approached cautiously, mindful of the fact that Rodimus hadn’t stopped giving him _that_ look since he walked in.

“Wonderful!” Rodimus took the plans, hopping to his feet with an exceptionally cheery tone, and rolled them out on his desk. Thunderclash felt a blush creep over his face as Rodimus bent over right in front of him to examine them, their hips nearly coming in contact. He kept his optics up and away from that curvaceous figure in favor of standing beside him to point out various empty spots on the plans.

“I figured this might be a good place to put in a rest location for the crew, someplace they can go when their shifts are over and socialize.” He said, indicating to a large empty room on the lower deck, “It’s even got it’s own connected store room.”

“It would be nice to have a place to just relax on board,” Rodimus said happily, but Thunderclash suddenly became distracted when he felt the speedster’s hip bump his side, “Who’s going to run the place though?”

“Uh,” Thunderclash blustered for a moment, “I thought of asking our friend Swerve, I asked Senator Cyclonus about wages and it should be enough for him to close down his bar for a few months and be able to reopen when he get’s back and have plenty left over to stock his bar.”

“Great! Have you asked him yet?” Rodimus straightened up, which gave Thunderclash a moment to breathe again. Only a moment. As the speedster decided to sit back on the desk and lean into him, his leg brushing against his own, “Or should we head down there on our break to ask him?”

With the way Rodimus had asked the question one might have assumed he’d said something dirty and Thunderclash had to reboot his vocoder twice before his processor caught the innocent question that had come from the speedster’s sensual voice.

“I thought I might visit him this evening…” Was all he could bring himself to say as Rodimus tilted his helm at him with a smile.

“It’d be better to do it this afternoon, he’ll have less customers.” Rodimus pointed out, “Plus I kind of miss that talkative little mini, I haven’t seen him since that night you walked me home.”

Thunderclash felt like he was going to implode. Rodimus had just invited him out for fuel, which his processor wanted to see as a _good_ idea. But he also knew that they were trying to stay out of any tabloids that wanted to skew their relationship, so going out for fuel was in that case a _bad_ idea. Thunderclash couldn’t bring himself to say no though, because it was Rodimus and he sorely missed hanging out with him. The last thing he wanted to do was point out the evident flaw in Rodimus’ plans. But, being who he was, he knew he had to.

“I don’t think it would be wise to go together,” He started apologetically, “The rumor mill is still buzzing with word about us… And I don’t think we should… Fuel the fire, so to speak.”

Thunderclash thought Rodimus would have been upset but the speedster gave him a thoughtful smile, “It’s just a fuel break, we’ve been doing that since we first became friends. It’s totally innocent, not to mention I don’t think we should have to wait for anyone else’s approval to hang out together.”

Unable to find words, Thunderclash simply nodded at his logic, “I guess you’re right…”

Rodimus gave him a friendly bump to his shoulder, “Besides, we’ll be careful, right? I just won’t jump you this time.” With that, the speedster stood and turned around again to review the plans once more.

Unknown to Rodimus, Thunderclash was burning alive behind his face plating, the speedster’s particular choice of words causing a meltdown in his processor. His optics stared at the far wall as he wondered when the Pit he had let his attraction for Rodimus get so bad. He thought he had it under control but it was only more obvious now that he _didn’t_ , seeing as he was misconstruing Rodimus’ words so badly.

Unless… Unless Rodimus was… _Flirting_ with him?

No, no it couldn’t be that, not when it could get their funding revoked. Especially because Rodimus didn’t even like him like that. Not to mention he’s married to Megatron who very obviously has feelings for the speedster.

Thunderclash finally brought his optics to Rodimus, unable to keep them from tracking his body bent over the desk on his forearms and reading the schematics for the ship’s new oil reserve tank. What little Thunderclash could feel of his EM field was content and excited, pretty standard for Rodimus when he was talking about the mission. Perhaps Rodimus was just warming up to Thunderclash more, joking with him more openly. Yeah, that had to be it. He did similar things with Drift didn’t he? Thunderclash thought maybe Ratchet mentioned something like that once or twice before.

“You good Thunders?” Rodimus asked, garnering his attention with a little wave of his hand.

“Oh, yes—uh, I was just thinking about what time we should take our fuel break to catch Swerve during a lull in his customers.” Thunderclash smiled. He supposed, whatever had gotten into Rodimus, it couldn’t be a bad thing to just go with it.

* * *

Megatron peered over his data pad at Rodimus who was staring, with a very concentrated expression, at his evening energon goodies. Most concerning was how dull his blue optics had become, a known factor indicating of some kind of stress.

“Something the matter?” Megatron asked.

Rodimus’ face visibly relaxed and he looked over at Megatron with a more amiable expression.

“Hm? Oh. No, nothings wrong. Well,” Rodimus tapped his digits on the table, “It’s this whole Thunderclash thing.”

Megatron felt a pang in his spark but put down his data pad to give Rodimus his full attention, “Did you talk to him?”

Rodimus’ face lit up with a flush, “Not—Not really. I’m not even sure he likes me so I figured I’d just… See if he was interested.”

Megatron tried not to laugh but Rodimus caught his smile and crossed his arms, “Okay, laugh it up big guy. When was the last time you tried to get a date?” He huffed.

“No need to bite my helm off,” Megatron mused, “I’m guessing your tactics didn’t get you the results you were looking for then, judging by your mood.”

“The mech is impossible to crack!” Rodimus threw his hands in the air, “I tried nearly everything in my book, and he just looked confused.”

Megatron chuckled, shaking his helm, “Maybe that’s because he _is_ , you’ve established yourself as his good friend, he might have a tough time making the leap to anything else. You may need to change your tactic to being more upfront with him.”

“What? I can’t do _that_.”

“Why not?”

Rodimus frowned, his optics darting around, “I’ve—I’ve never asked anyone out before… Not seriously at least.”

“Hm,” Megatron hummed in thought, “Maybe you just need practice, how about you try practicing on me?”

Rodimus let out a puff of air that sounded like a laugh, “I don’t think that will help.”

“Why not?” Megatron tilted his helm at the speedster, “Am I not intimidating enough?”

“Oh you’re plenty intimidating… Just not in the same way.” Rodimus commented.

“How so?” Megatron asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He’d briefly wondered why Rodimus was attracted to the colorful mech. What did he see in him? Besides the obvious; tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, any mech with optics could see those. Though Megatron had never asked because he was scared he couldn’t handle the answer he would get. Like maybe the fact that he was an autobot and not a reformed decepticon with billions of lives on his conscious…

“Well,” Rodimus paused, rubbing his neck cabling, “He’s just so… Perfect, y’know? Everyone calls him ‘The Greatest Autobot of All Time’ or whatever… And I’m just me.”

Megatron shook his helm in mild disbelief, “Just ‘ _you_ ’? As in, just Rodimus _Prime_ , the mech who defeated the quintessons? Who saved the Matrix from falling into enemy hands? That Rodimus Prime?”

Rodimus looked down at the praise, not making optic contact with Megatron anymore, “Well… Yeah, I guess.”

“If you ask me, though I’ll admit I might be biased,” Megatron reached a hand over to take one of Rodimus’ on the table, “Some paltry captain would be lucky to have you.”

Rodimus still didn’t look up but he nodded faintly, “Thanks Megs.”

Megatron, still curious about what made Rodimus feel so inferior to be unable to ask out Thunderclash of all mechs, opened his mouth to respond but stopped short upon receiving a message. An encrypted message. Thinking if it was who he thought it was, he pulled it up on his data pad and ran an old decepticon decryption. Sure enough it was sent by Starscream, telling him to ‘meet Soundwave at the office to retrieve his computer for further analysis’.

With a sigh, “Rodimus I’d like to continue this conversation but I’ve just realized I left some important documentation at the office I was supposed to have with me when I head to the work site, I’ll need to go retrieve it.” Megatron said, hating having to fib to Rodimus like this. A little voice in the back of his helm told him he should just tell Rodimus instead of lying. But he was already this far, he figured he might as well go through with the back channels he was using and not worry the speedster.

“M’Kay,” Rodimus mumbled, “I’ll hold down the fort I guess.” He smiled softly and Megatron suddenly felt guilty about leaving and just wanted to feel close to the speedster again. He stood and, without even thinking about it, he leaned down to lay a kiss on Rodimus’ helm. They shared a moment of silence, Rodimus still smiling up at him, his blue optics slowly returning to their usual vibrancy. 

“I’ll be back in an hour.” Megatron said with a soft brush of his fingers against Rodimus’ cheek before turning to leave.

* * *

Rodimus watched Megatron leave, giving him a little wave of his hand as he did, and feeling a little more at ease about his situation than he had been. He supposed it was because it was nice being able to talk so openly about this with Megatron. Having someone to talk to made all the difference. As much as he wanted to continue to think about how he was going to solve the Thunderclash problem, he needed a shower and his berth was calling to him. He’d always have time to think himself into oblivion tomorrow.

He sat for a few more moments in silence before he stretched his arms over his helm, yawning, then finally standing and exiting the living area. He flicked off the lights as he walked down the hall to the berth room, feeling exhaustion in his struts and wanting nothing more than a hot shower in Megatron’s nice and spacious wash racks. Which was now also his, wasn’t it? He’d been recharging in Megatron’s berth every night for a week and half without fail. He briefly wondered if Megatron minded but shook it off in favor of believing that the silver mech wasn’t one to have uninvited berth guests if he didn’t want them. He needed to move his shower supplies over soon then, he doubt Megatron would remain oblivious to his soap and wax theft forever. Not to mention Megatron’s taste in wax wasn’t up to Rodimus’ standards.

As Rodimus opened the door to the wash racks, he heard the familiar, albeit muffled, chimes of a code being input into the front door. He raised a brow ridge in confusion and checked his chronometer. Surely Megatron hadn’t gone and come back _already_? It had barely been 5 minutes.

“Megs?” Rodimus called softly, but when he receive no answer he strode back out of the room and down the hallway with worry.

His optics immediately noticed and latched onto the open front door and approached it cautiously, confusion riddling his processor. The door didn’t looked tampered with as it was open only ajar and it’s mechanisms all looked to be in working order. He fiddled with the buttons side of it and, finding still nothing wrong with it, he was about to write it off as some kind of malfunction with the door. When he heard it.

A rasping vent. Softer than a whisper. But obvious in an empty room. Or _supposedly_ empty. Rodimus felt a pain bloom in his spark. A cold dread that emanated from the matrix in his chest. Every sensor on his plating crawled. A little voice in the back of his helm told him not to look. As long as he didn’t see it, it wasn’t real.

Rodimus disobeyed without thinking. Turning slowly. Looking out into the darkened room. Moonlight from the window casting everything in a dark silhouette. An unmistakable figure stood across from him. Although cast in shadow, it’s body hunched over, swaying ominously among the still furniture around it, Rodimus could tell. He’d seen it in a thousand nightmares throughout the past years. It’s startling blue optics stretched open wide and maliciously staring across the room at him.

“O-Optim…us.” Rodimus half mumbled, half stuttered, the old Prime’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🤭


	35. Just Barely

Rodimus felt like he couldn’t vent.

His chest tightened in pain, cold washing over his frame. The matrix in his chest felt suddenly heavier than ever before, like it was weighing him down to the floor. He feared if he tried to move, he wouldn’t be able to. He was stuck between the fight and flight response. Waiting for the slightest movement to set him over the edge.

But nothing kept him still quite like those optics. Listless and staring at him from across the room. Although he knew it was impossible. He’d seen the body. He knew it couldn’t be. This creature that stood across from him bared an unnatural resemblance to the old Prime. The silhouette was incomplete. Leaving Rodimus’ processor to fill in the blanks. The lean and sway of an injured frame. The stump of an arm where one had been ripped out. Rodimus was almost thankful for the shadow that covered the chest where the blast mark had been… And where the empty spark chamber was.

Rodimus swallowed around a lump in his intake. The rasping vent came again, sending a chill down his spine.

The form jerked forward, it’s movement setting pinpricks down Rodimus’ spine. He could just make out an arm extending towards him. It’s fingers uncurling to reach out. Moving unnaturally toward him, it spoke with it’s garbled voice dripping with pain and growling incoherently.

**_R — d i — u s— R—n — I t — I — s — d e — G — t — O—u—_ **

Rodimus lurched backwards, his spark beating painfully fast. He fell out through the open door, hitting the far wall with his back. His optics stared at the writhing form coming at him. A scream stuck in the back of his intake. Without much thought other than slowing it down, he quickly stepped forward to slam his hand down on the door panel, shutting it before the creature met the light. He once again backed into the wall behind him, staring unblinking at the door in front of him. He could hear his fuel pump in his audials as he tried to listen for the sounds of the creature within. But he heard nothing.

Everything was deafeningly silent. To the point that he wasn’t even sure his audials could hear anything but the functions of his own body. The ache in his chest had yet to recede, his spark burned like a white hot flame was trying to escape from it. He slid down the wall and sat there for what could have been minutes or hours, he couldn’t tell, until finally the pain ebbed and there was utter silence in the hallway. He focused his audials but could hear nothing coming from beyond the door.

He stood slowly, shaking all the way down to his pedes for a moment before wobbling forth to lay a hand on the panel of the door. A green light flashed at the top, indicating it was unlocked…

“Rodimus?”

Jumping damn near out of his own plating, Rodimus spun around to see Minimus Ambus of all bots looking at him from the hall elevator, the mini’s arms full of what looked like data pads.

“What’re _you_ doing here?” Rodimus blurted rather loudly. The green and white mini raised brow at him.

“I live here. Down the hall, on the other side…” Minimus trailed off, his red optics looking him up and down. When the he caught Rodimus’ befuddled expression he elaborated with, “Well, _Minimus Ambus_ does, anyway.” Shooting Rodimus a knowing look.

Nodding in understanding, Rodimus straightened himself up from where he had pressed himself against the door to his apartment and cleared his intake, “R-Right. I uh, forgot.”

Though he seriously doubted anyone was listening in on their conversation, besides maybe a monster in his apartment but that was the _least_ of his worries, he didn’t want to offend Minimus by outright saying he had almost forgotten that Minimus and Ultra Magnus were one and the same now. He had little time to spend with the mech as of late. It used to be that he would see him every other day to talk about his duties and the Primes of the past. Not to mention Rodimus would hide in his office from Prowl at least once a week during much simpler times.

“Uh, do you need any help with that?” Rodimus indicated to the tablets in Minimus’ arms.

Minimus’ mustache bristled and his ruby optics narrowed, “I’m perfectly capable of carrying a few data pads on my own.” He said indignantly.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant,” Rodimus said, suddenly aware of his words and waving his hands in front of him, “I was just asking in case… You wanted my help? We haven’t had much time to talk lately and I just wanted to make it up to you.”

The sharp look in Minimus’ optics softened and he looked away in what might have been embarrassment, “Oh. In that case… Sure. Just be careful, most of these are borrowed.” The smaller bot lifted a stack from one arm in Rodimus’ direction.

Rodimus felt a strangely intense relief wash over him as he approached and took the stack in his hands.

“Aren’t you going to lock your door?”

He froze, swallowing a lump in his intake as he craned his neck back over to the door. The green light blinking innocently enough, but Rodimus felt the fear clutch his spark with renewed vigor. With as much nonchalance as he could muster, he approached the door and used a singular digit to engage the lock. He worried that Minimus might have seen his plating jump when the noise of the lock scared him and he looked back with as neutral of an expression as he could.

“Thanks, I almost forgot,” Rodimus said with a forced smile, “Anyway, which place was yours again?”

Minimus looked unimpressed and if he was suspicious, he didn’t let it show. He nodded towards the adjacent hallway and Rodimus followed, gaining a little more genuine cheer in his step the further he got from his own apartment.

“Sooo, what _is_ all this?” Rodimus asked as they slowed to a stop in front of Minimus’ apartment, the mini keying in his code with quick fingers and stepping inside without missing a beat. Rodimus followed, taking in an apartment almost as fancy as his own though missing the multicolored living area. It was also without the large windows that overlooked the view of the city, but what it lacked in a view it more than made up for with it’s furnishings.

Rodimus hadn’t thought Ultra Magnus was one for lavish decor but maybe he had forgotten to factor in his status as a member of the house of Ambus. Despite it’s grand size, the room was clearly made to be accommodating to Minimus’ own stature, with the white furniture being low to the ground and the appliances having spots for Minimus to stand on when operating them. The couches were draped in a plush looking blanket made of a material he hadn’t seen before. It had a lovely shift to it’s colors and Rodimus reached out to touch it without much thought, finding it surprisingly textured but still soft.

“ _This_ , is just a bit of light reading for while I’m on vacation.” Minimus said, setting his stack of data pads on the table in front of the couch.

“Vacation? I didn’t think Ultra Magnus _took_ vacations.”

“It was mandated.” Minimus grumbled.

“Oh,” Rodimus blinked, setting his own stack down next to the other, “Wait, _light reading_? All this?” He indicated to both stacks, each with at least 9 data pads on them.

“Yes.” Minimus said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Rodimus made a noise like an aborted laugh before picking one up, “Gonna be some vacation huh?” He grinned cheekily at Minimus before the title on the tablet caught his optic.

“Mims… Is this… poetry?” Rodimus raised a brow and turning the tablet towards the mini.

Minimus snatched it from him, his green faceplate darkening over his cheeks, “As it would happen, yes.”

Rodimus couldn’t help but find that both endearing and hilarious. And he felt a more than a little guilty all over again, as he hadn’t even known that Ultra Magnus, well _Minimus_ , even had any special interests. He thought he and Minimus were relatively close but he didn’t even know where he had lived—even though he had lived so close too. He even would have asked the mech to visit if he thought Minimus might say _yes._ But Rodimus had been too wrapped up in himself for such things.

Rodimus walked over to the only window of the apartment, taking in the night sky for a moment, “Hey, Mims?”

“Must you _always_ find a way to shorten my designation?” Minimus asked as he sorted his data pads neatly onto an empty portion of a nearby shelf.

“I’ll stop if you open up and an even smaller robot walks out with a shorter name.” Rodimus said with a giant grin.

Minimus scowled at him.

“I just wanted to ask, how long have you lived here?”

Minimus looked a little taken aback, “Well, I’ve been here since it was built. The place was offered to me by Optimus before he passed, before the building was finished.”

“Did he—Did he know about…?” Rodimus indicated to Minimus’ small stature and the green bot’s mustache twitched rather adorably.

“No, he didn’t,” Minimus sighed and took one of his tablets from the immaculate shelf and sat down on his sofa, “Sometimes I think that I should have told him.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rodimus asked, coming to sit on the floor beside Minimus.

“ _Why_?” Minimus grumbled, “Do you remember how you reacted? I don’t think Optimus would have appreciated finding out his friend died and was replaced without his knowledge.”

Minimus sighed, “Anyway, after he passed, it didn’t feel right living here as Ultra Magnus but I also didn’t want to give up the only gift I had ever accepted from him. So Ultra Magnus sold it to _Minimus Ambus_.” He indicated to himself with a slump of his shoulders.

The pain in Minimus’ optics formed a pit in Rodimus’ tanks. It became more obvious the more Minimus talked about Optimus, that despite them having been good friends, Minimus Ambus was never able to open up to Optimus. Ultra Magnus didn’t have friends in the conventional sense, save for Optimus. And _everyone_ knew that. Some even thought they were long lost spark brothers. And none could have guessed that the Ultra Magnus that Optimus had initially known had died a few times over. Then, when Optimus was gone, so went Ultra Magnus’ only friend.

“I’m sorry.” The words felt heavy on Rodimus’ lips. He felt them all the way to his spark and he bit down on his lips to stop a terrible truth that lingered on his glossa as guilt churned his tanks.

“Why are _you_ sorry?” Minimus asked, though Rodimus felt the unspoken ‘it’s not like it was _your_ fault.’

_Except it was._

“I was just thinking that it must be lonely,” Rodimus twiddled his fingers into the fabric that hung from the couch next to his knee, “Living the way you do, I mean. And I haven’t made it any easier on you.”

Minimus snatched his hand away from the fabric but held in both of his with a sigh, “It’s nothing you should have to concern yourself with. You should be focused on your duties as Prime.”

“What good is being a Prime if I can’t help the mechs I care about?” Rodimus asked, staring up at Minimus from where he sat. The mini blinked harshly, blustering for a moment like he hadn’t expected the sudden proclamation.

“A good Prime puts the welfare of the many over the few, Rodimus.” Minimus stated rather rigidly.

“Then I’ll be a poor Prime, ‘cause I’ve never been one to leave anyone behind.” Rodimus retorted firmly, “And sometimes I’m not even good at that.”

“You’re trying too hard,” Minimus chastised but his tone was gentle, “If you just help where you can and don’t worry about things you can’t control, you’d feel better.”

“I don’t wanna _feel_ better Mims,” Rodimus squeezed his friend’s hands in his own, “I want to _be_ better. Starting by being a better friend to you.”

Minimus looked slightly flustered, “Rodimus, I assure you, I’m fine—”

“Too late, you’re stuck with me,” Rodimus stood up, “Now, where in the _galaxy_ did you get this blanket. ‘Cause I kind of think I need one.”

* * *

Rodimus spent a long while with Minimus until the mini finally threw him out for the night. He wished that his decision to stay and get to know the Minimus Ambus side of Ultra Magnus was entirely selfless. But in the end it all boiled down to not wanting to return to his own place. So after he managed to get a hug out of the mini as a good night, he let go with reluctance and felt that cold feeling come back to him as the door shut on him.

He walked down the hall and rounded the corner and straightened up when he saw Megatron outside the door, inputting his code. Rodimus almost shouted to stop as the door opened with a _shhhk._ And for a beat he couldn’t breathe. Then Megatron noticed him.

“Rodimus? What are you doing out here?” Megatron reached inside and turned on the light in the apartment.

“Oh, I was just helping a friend—Minimus Ambus— he lives down the hall…” Rodimus trailed off as he approached and leaned inside to look around.

The lit apartment revealed nothing. There was no marks left behind from whatever creature had been there. Rodimus could visualize where it had been standing, yet there was no way it could have been there could it? If it had tried to move towards him the way it did… It would have to have moved through objects to get to the door. Something would have to have been off if it had truly been there. An overturned table, a nudged sofa, _anything_. But there was only the apartment as it had been before he had first left the room. Which left only one conclusion.

_It wasn’t real._

“Anyway, I just helped him with some data pads and we talked for a bit. Well, big day tomorrow, should probably get to bed.” Rodimus yawned forcefully and gave Megatron a _Rodimus trademark_ grin before shuffling to the wash racks to shower like he had originally intended. Earning an odd look from the silver mech in turn.

He had experienced a lot of different types of nightmares over the past were years but nothing like this before. So Rodimus could only imagine that this must not have been a nightmare. It had to have been a vision. Nearly everything in his body told him it must be, also because the alternative was too painful to think about. Knowing this, Rodimus decided that he would need to try and find a way to decipher these visions before whatever it was warning him about came to pass. Especially if it was something that could hurt Cybertron. 

And while he wanted nothing more than to ask for Megatron’s help, he had his doubts that the silver mech could help in this department. The only mechs that could possibly assist him would be Ultra Magnus or Tyrest because of their history with the Primes. Ultra Magnus was on some necessary time off so Rodimus was left with little option but to go crawling to the one mech he hated talking to about Prime stuff. But if it meant finding out how to fix the mess Rodimus was in, then he would just deal with it.

Rodimus felt a buzzing in his processor as he lay in bed, partially energized by his resolution to fix things and terrified by the prospect of shuttering his optics. The only sense of relief he had was that Megatron was there. His massive gunmetal frame felt like a wall between Rodimus and his fears. It was enough to help him recharge if only because he trusted that Megatron would protect him if there was any real threat out there. But only just barely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is over a month late q.q It's a long story if you don't follow me on tumblr and I won't rehash it here. TL;DR I started another new job and the hours are NOT consistent. Yay. I thought it would only be a few hours a week but, needless to say it hasn't been. I'm hoping it will calm down but it's retail during the holidays so likely not q.q
> 
> I'll try to get out a chapter in another couple weeks though. If I can calm my adhd long enough to write coherently lol.


	36. Impending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus goes looking for answers and hits a brick wall. Luckily Thunderclash is there to help.

Megatron glared down at yet another obscene message from his former second in command.

After getting his computer to the jet, and replacing it with a rather convincing copy created by Soundwave, they had decided to have Starscream work remotely from Vos. They had installed a way to change the computer’s location to the senate building so as not to arouse suspicion from any of the security. This was aided by Soundwave giving them backdoor access but to ensure discretion they also decided that Starscream would only work at the computer when Megatron was actually present at his own, just in case anyone thought it was weird that he was on his computer at five in the morning when he was supposed to be in berth. That also meant that Megatron was in near constant contact with the seeker and with Vos being in a different time zone, he was disturbing’s Starscream’s ‘important’ schedule. 

Megatron swore he’d aged another million years in the past day alone, as every time he had to get up Starscream would send him another nasty message. He put his cube of coolant up to his lips, wondering just how he had managed to put up with the seeker as his second all those years ago. His fingers froze on his keyboard as the lights winked out and his computer shut off. Frowning, he stood from his desk and marched out into the hall, finding others doing just the same and the rest of the building in total darkness.

“Well,” Megatron sighed as he sent another message to Starscream to stop working, “That can’t be good.” Starscream wasn’t going to be happy about having to stop for as long as the power was out.

At least Megatron might get a chance to rest a little, he wondered briefly if he should visit Rodimus. He hardly ever saw the speedster at work. Their offices were located on opposite ends of the building so it was hardly ever practical for them to meet up for any extended time. Checking his chronometer, he decided it might be nice to share a break together for once and headed out.

He’d wait to open his next message from Starscream afterwards.

* * *

Rodimus drug his pedes.

He really didn’t want to see Tyrest, _especially_ after their last meeting, but Rodimus didn’t see any other options. He didn’t want to bother Minimus while he was on vacation, and no one else knew as much about the Primes as Tyrest at this point in time. Save for perhaps the Circle of Light but he didn’t see them popping up any day now. He needed answers now. He wasn’t going to leave here empty handed, so after parting ways with Megatron for the day, Rodimus headed down the familiar hallways of the senate building. He knocked upon the judge’s door with a heavy hand and waited. There was a beat and Rodimus was unsure whether or not he had been heard. But before he could knock again there came a voice from within. A voice that was not Tyrest’s.

The door opened and that same white bot stood in the doorway, his yellow optics looking surprised and strangely happy to see him. Rodimus chalked that up to him just being some kind of fan or something, but it was still a bit off putting.

“Is Tyrest in?” Rodimus asked, getting to the point.

“Yes, but he is meditating as a part of our treatment. He will only be a few moments if you would like to come in.” The long limbs of the white bot pivoted to invite him inside.

Rodimus crossed the threshold, skirting around the thin mech as he did. Tyrest sat at his desk, his optics shut and his body sitting upright, looking none too relaxed for supposedly ‘meditating’ but Rodimus wasn’t one to judge. All the times Drift had Rodimus try meditating always ended in him falling asleep from becoming too relaxed. Maybe Tyrest was having the opposite problem.

Rodimus sat down in one of the chairs on the side of the room as he waited. He tried to remember the name of the lanky bot that let him in while he did. He looked so familiar but he couldn’t remember his name for the life of him, nor could he remember where they had met before. It must have been after the war when remembering names had gotten harder for Rodimus…

Tyrest’s golden optics opened, “I think that was enough for today.”

“If you say so,” The white bot said, none too kindly for whatever kind of therapist he was supposed to be, “You were almost fully relaxed that time.”

Rodimus barely held in a snort, because if that had been Tyrest _relaxed_ then he would have loved to have seen him beforehand.

“We’ll keep working on it won’t we.” The mech continued cheerily when Tyrest didn’t respond, turning partway towards Rodimus, “Until next time. It was good seeing you again as well.” Then the lanky bot swept out of the room with his hands behind his back. 

Rodimus stared after him, curiously. 

“Was there something you needed Rodimus?” Tyrest said, rather calmly, garnering Rodimus’ attention away from the strange mech.

“Uh, right,” Rodimus moved to sit in front of the judge, still wracking his processor for that bot’s damn name but leaving it alone for now.

“What can I do for you Rodimus?” Tyrest asked once he was seated squarely in front of the judge.

“Hm, where to start, uh,” Rodimus let out a puff of air as he steeled himself, “I’ve uh, been having strange visions lately. I was hoping maybe you would know a way for me to find out what they might mean.”

Tyrest’s optics narrowed minutely before blinking whatever small glimmer of emotion had been on his face.

“Ultra Magnus informed me you were experiencing nightmares.” Tyrest said blandly, “I know he said you could possibly be experiencing the same sort of ‘visions’ that Optimus claimed to have had years ago. Excuse me for my apprehension in this subject, but I fail to see how what you have seen could be vision from the Matrix?”

Rodimus felt taken aback, firstly that Ultra Magnus had told Tyrest about this. He guessed he shouldn’t be surprised since Tyrest was his boss and all, but it still felt a bit like a betrayal. He thought that conversation had been private, as it had been with Megatron in the first place…Secondly, he felt agitated at not being believed. The visions were his own after all, he knew they happened… Didn’t they?

“These just seem so… real and out of place…” Rodimus said quietly, “Which is how Magnus described the visions Optimus had.”

“Yes, and many other bots have been claiming the same, all over the planet. Are they too, experiencing visions from the Matrix? Myself included?” Tyrest asked dourly.

“You’ve had nightmares?” Rodimus asked, flabbergasted. He had a hard time envisioning such a thing.

“We all experienced the same _four million year war_ , Rodimus.” Tyrest said flatly, “Much of the populace are dealing with trauma. And we’re all learning to _cope_.”

Rodimus blinked, uncertain on how to respond. Had his nightmares truly been _just_ that? Trauma? But the most recent ones surely not. Especially the one about Optimus. He’d had _those_ types of nightmares before. This had been so much more than that. He had to know more, he couldn’t just leave it alone. The conflict in his spark must have been well written on his face because the judge sighed.

“If you require further proof then perhaps I could show you the archives of previous Primes to ease your processor.” Tyrest rose from his seat, “Quickly now, we have little time.”

* * *

Thunderclash walked alongside Riptide, who was explaining details of Caminus project to Pipes.

“So we’re going to make all these stops on the way there?” Pipes said, holding up the map they had.

“We _were_ going to but because we got upgraded to a ‘mission’, we have to go by stricter rules.” Riptide shook his helm, “So we only get to do about half of them because they count as resupply stops.”

“We’ll try and do the other half on the way back,” Thunderclash interjected, “Rodimus had his spark set on a few of the destinations that got cut.”

“And of course we can’t have that.” Riptide said with a knowing smirk and a wink.

Thunderclash blushed as the small mini also caught what Riptide was saying and his optics sparkled. 

“Are you two really going out?” Pipes whispered excitedly.

“N-No, it’s not like that,” Thunderclash said quietly.

Riptide leaned down and whispered something that only the small mini could hear, flustering Thunderclash further when Pipes let out a noise partway between a squeal and a gasp.

Covering his mouthplate, Pipes shook his helm vigorously, “I won’t say a thing! Promise! Anyway, I need to get back to my work, thanks for hanging out Riptide!”

The mini ran off and Thunderclash waited until he was out of sight before crossing his arms and glaring at Riptide.

“What?” Riptide asked when he caught his optic.

“You know what,” Thunderclash grumbled, “Rodimus and I are just friends.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.” Riptide smirked.

“It was made to look that way for the headlines. I’m pretty sure they also edited the photo too if you look closely.” Thunderclash uncrossed his arms and slumped his shoulders, “And it almost pulled the rug right out from under this project we’ve been trying so hard to accomplish.”

“I know, but Thunders you’re still forgetting something.” Riptide put a hand on Thunderclash’s shoulder.

“What’s that?” Thunderclash asked, unsure of what he could mean.

Riptide looked around before growing closer to whisper, “You actually _have_ those kinds of feelings for Rodimus.”

“And nothing is going to come of it.” Thunderclash said, perhaps a bit stubbornly, “Not only does he not feel that way for me, he’s also married if you’ll remember.”

“Pffft,” Riptide rolled his optics, “You’re still on about that? I think you’re the only bot I know who actually thinks their marriage matters. It was for a treaty Thunders.”

“I know differently, Riptide. I’ve seen them together,” Thunderclash turned to walk back to his office so they weren’t having this discussion in the hallways, “I think they really love each other and if Rodimus is happy then I’m happy for him. Remember, I’m not long for this world either, it’s better that he has someone who will be there for him for years to come.”

Riptide fell into step beside him, “Blech, Rodders fell for bucket-helm? When you’re standing right here? The mech has no taste.” 

Thunderclash couldn’t help but notice the way Riptide ignored his comment about his impending demise and decided to do the same, “Megatron is a decent mech, and he’s not bad looking.”

“Ugh!” Riptide shuddered, “Listen, it’s okay to be fine with the love of your life being with someone else, but when that someone else is _Megatron_ , don’t say slag like that.”

Thunderclash smirked and opened his mouth to say some more compliments about Megatron that he knew would drive Riptide crazy. He stopped when he noticed Rodimus walking their way. Not just Rodimus though, Tyrest was walking right beside him, his arm over Rodimus’ shoulders in what might’ve looked like a comforting gesture. Thunderclash new otherwise of course, especially due to the frown that pulled at Rodimus’ face.

Under normal circumstances, Thunderclash might have let them pass by him without so much as a second thought. Tyrest was his advisor after all. But the look in Rodimus’ optics spoke volumes to his current state. And after seeing how Tyrest talked to him not that long ago, Thunderclash felt compelled to intervene in some way. He stepped in front of them, stopping them abruptly and confusing Riptide and Tyrest. The look on Rodimus’ face was only relief though, and that was all the justification that he needed.

“Sorry, I’m sure you two must be busy but I just wanted a quick word with Rodimus about our flight plan.” Thunderclash smiled warmly up at Tyrest.

“No problem Thunderclash, but the Prime and I were on our way to the archives for some important research.” Tyrest said mildly.

“Actually, I know the way to the archives myself,” Rodimus chimed, slipping out from under Tyrest’s arm, “And Thunderclash is more than capable of assisting me, I’m sure an important mech like yourself has much more pressing matters you need to be attending right now. This way I can collaborate with Thunderclash and find what I’m looking for in the archives. Way more efficient.” Rodimus spoke quickly and gave Tyrest a rather forceful smile.

Thunderclash just simply nodded along, “I’m sure I would be able to help Rodimus locate his research, I’ve been told by many that I would have made a great archivist if I didn’t get lost along the halls as often as I used to.” He joked but the judge seemed unmoved and for a second he thought maybe he saw a glimmer of anger in the judge’s optics. Thunderclash felt a small twinge of fear for a second.

“Very well,” The anger disappeared and Tyrest inclined his helm, “I trust you implicitly, Thunderclash. Afterall, you are the greatest of us all.”

Thunderclash grit his dentae together, feeling strangely threatened as the judge retreated down the hallway. In the back of his processor, a little voice reminded him just how much that mech could destroy him and everything he wanted to accomplish with a wave of a single hand. Being the ‘Greatest Autobot of All Time’ had very little perks, but it was a long way to fall if the wrong mech decided you had to go…

“Thunders?”

Thunderclash snapped his attention to Rodimus, not realizing he had been speaking, “Hm?” He asked innocently.

“Thanks for bailing me out, but you don’t have to come with me if you’re busy.” Rodimus said, his voice sounding a little on edge still. That felt strange to Thunderclash, as it had been a while since Rodimus had been so guarded around him.

“Thankfully I’m not busy,” Thunderclash said cheerily, “And I do have some business to discuss with you if you don’t mind me tagging along to the archives.”

Rodimus’s posture wavered for a moment before relaxing, “Sure, I could use the company,” The mech smiled warmly at him, “Plus I can’t wait to see your navigational skills put to the test in the Archives.”

Thunderclash groaned, “I hope you’re prepared for this to take awhile.”

“I’m counting on it actually.” Rodimus smirked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this out yesterday as a final post for 2020 but oops I ran out of time DX Well, now I can greet the new year with an update! Hopefully I'll get the next update out sooner but it depends on if my time gets eaten up by work again. Until then, I hope yall had a good New Years! Onwards to 2021!


	37. All The Time In The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Thunderclash get very little actual research done in this one.

Thunderclash and Rodimus walked quietly to the archives. 

“So what is it you’re researching?” Thunderclash asked gently, sensing Rodimus was still tense.

“Um, Prime stuff.” Rodimus said stiffly.

“Ah,” Thunderclash nodded, “I see.”

“What?” Rodimus started defensively, his plating flaring up.

“Oh, I mean, I understand why you don’t want to tell me. That’s your business,” Thunderclash put his hands up in an effort calm him before the speedster went off, “I don’t need to be privy to that information, I didn’t mean to sound offensive.”

Rodimus pouted, but his plating bristled back into a normal position, “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to tell you… I just don’t want to drag you into this.”

Thunderclash chuckled good-naturedly, “I assure you Rodimus, you could not drag me into anything I wasn’t already intending on sticking my nose into. Although, if you decide to make me a part of your business then I promise to be respectful, and keep utmost discretion.” He finished with all the sincerity he could muster, “I would never ask you to tell me something if you’re not comfortable with it. But if you want my help, I am here for you.”

They walked for a bit in silence. Thunderclash hoped that he hadn’t pressured Rodimus in any way. All he wanted was to help, but he knew that he often overstepped his boundaries doing that simple task all the time. So when they turned the final corner to the entrance of the archives, Thunderclash was surprised to hear the speedster clear his intake.

“I’ve uh, been having… _visions_ I think,” Rodimus looked down at his pedes, “Tyrest doesn’t seem concerned by it but…”

Thunderclash furrowed his brow, “You feel differently.” It wasn’t a question but Rodimus nodded back.

“Yeah. I hope it’s nothing but,” Rodimus glanced up at him with a nervous smile, “I just want to be sure you know?”

Thunderclash nodded, trying to be reassuring, “We’ll find out. Together.”

Rodimus breathed a deep vent, “I hope you’re right.” He put his hand up to the door’s panel, allowing it to scan his biometrics.

Thunderclash simply stayed close to Rodimus. The archives of Alpha Trion were only allowed access to certain members of the council, and of course the Prime himself. Although Thunderclash probably could have gotten permission to visit them based on his status alone, having held the Matrix briefly doesn’t hurt either, he still felt great reverence for being granted such an opportunity. He doubted he would have ever visited them alone though, for particular reasons that were even more apparent when the doors opened in front of them.

The Archives of Alpha Trion were practically a maze of of information, in the most literal and figural sense. The floors, walls, and even the furnishings were all cells that housed trillions of bytes of data, and were in constant shift and motion. They were created to safeguard information from being stolen or tampered with so only certain mechs could even access the room and even less could navigate the search functions necessary for finding any information hidden within. And it was a complete nightmare for Thunderclash’s sense of direction. Or, rather, lack thereof. Thunderclash took two steps into the room and immediately felt himself inching closer to Rodimus.

“Doing alright ‘Clash?” Rodimus sounded amused, “Are the stories about you getting lost really true?”

“If I can study the terrain beforehand I’m usually fine but…” Thunderclash looked around at the shifting walls of the archive, “There’s not exactly a way to map a place like this.”

“I used to hear from others that only Alpha Trion could actually navigate this place with any sense of clarity. But I think that’s just a rumor.” Rodimus leaned on a nearby shelf for a moment before it began to recede upwards into the ceiling.

“We probably shouldn’t head too far from the door then, just in case we actually want to get out of here.” Thunderclash grumbled.

“Relax, you’ve got me here.” Rodimus bumped him with his hip, “Luckily being a Prime has some perks when it comes to Alpha Trion’s archive.”

Rodimus reached out and the room stopped shifting for a moment before rearranging itself as the colors of the walls changed from bright matrix-blue, to green. Rows upon rows sprung up from the floor as others shifted and folded away, leaving a more concise library of information among the near infinite knowledge of the archive.

Thunderclash smiled at Rodimus, glad to see him acting with such confidence, “Impressive. What search are you using?”

“I’m searching for information on visions that the Matrix might give to a Prime… So right now; Matrix of Leadership. Figured it’s causing the fuss so it might be the easiest path.” Rodimus bit his lip before saying, “It may have something to do with seeing uh, past Primes in their visions.”

Thunderclash nodded solemnly, “I’ll see what I can find.” 

A million questions spawned in Thunderclash’s helm with that information; what visions were these, that included seeing Optimus? Was it Optimus and not another Prime? Did Megatron know about this? How long has he had them? Thunderclash wished he could ask even one of them but he could see that Rodimus was sharing information that was distressing, so he decided keep his thoughts to himself. Instead he put his nose to the shelves, scouring for anything like what Rodimus was asking for. Besides, he didn’t need to ask anything to understand why he might be upset. Seeing a deceased friend would be incredibly hard to cope with for anyone. Thunderclash sorely wished to tell Rodimus that he was there for him if he needed to talk about it, but right now didn’t seem like the right moment.

Thunderclash picked his way through documents, pulling a few that looked vaguely promising before quickly scanning them. Rodimus did the same, being surprisingly quiet for several minutes on end. Thunderclash opened his mouth to comment on Rodimus’ silence, if only to ease the tension slightly, but was stopped short as he heard a tangled rumble and a grinding noise that came to a halt before the room was suddenly eclipsed in darkness.

“Slaaaag.” Thunderclash heard Rodimus swear from where he had been standing, “Today of all days, there _has_ to be a black out?”

Thunderclash frowned at the clear frustration in Rodimus’ voice, “I’m so sorry Rodimus.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” Rodimus sighed, “I’ve just had pretty bad luck the past few days.”

With his optics adjusting slowly to the dark light, Thunderclash felt outwards as he tried to make his way towards where the entrance was by following the speedster’s voice, “Well, I’m sure things can only get better.” Thunderclash said positively.

Rodimus snorted, “How’s that? You figure they can’t get any worse?”

“I didn’t say that but things have a tendency to get better after I tell myself that they will.” Thunderclash reached out to try and touch the console he thought was just ahead of him, his optics clearing up a little more and seeing a vague outline in front of him.

“Your experiences are not universal.” Rodimus laughed, “If anything, things might only get wor _se!—_ ”

Thunderclash jumped as his hand met very warm plating and he recoiled when he realized he _who_ he must have accidentally touched, “S-Sorry! My optics are still adjusting so I couldn’t tell that was you.”

“It’s no problem, you just startled me a bit.” He felt a warm hand take his own, “I hadn’t expected you to come up behind me and touch my spoiler.”

Thunderclash felt his faceplate burn with the fire of a thousand suns. He almost wanted to chop off his offending hand for touching Rodimus so _indecently,_ “Oh, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright ‘Clash, it’s not gonna fall off or anything.” Rodimus said with a laugh, his features becoming more clear as the dim light of their combined optics illuminated him.

Thunderclash felt relief in seeing such a genuine smile on Rodimus’ face, he could feel his face pulling into a goofy smile of his own. The warmth of Rodimus’s hand that held his own radiated up his arm, reminding him that they were linked. And if Thunderclash payed close enough attention… He swore he could feel _something_ in the speedster’s field he had never felt before. Curious, he let his own field chase that feeling.

Rodimus’ optics widened marginally and stared up at him, the speedster’s field retreating completely.

Thunderclash gasped, “Sorry, that was rude of me.” He inwardly kicked himself. He shouldn’t be acting like this, he’s been so entranced in his own fantasy that he almost forgot that they were stuck in a room with no way out, “L-Let’s see if I can get those doors open, shall we.”

Thunderclash tried to move away from Rodimus.

“Wait.” 

Rodimus tugged him back with that firm grasp on his hand, “What were you looking for?”

Thunderclash felt his spark shrivel, “Nothing, I-I was just being nosy.”

“Nosy for what?” Rodimus took a step forward, making the short distance between them even smaller.

“Uh, um…” Thunderclash searched for the right words, “It’s uh, just that… Well I was just wondering what you were thinking right then.” He finally admitted.

“Do you want me to tell you?” Rodimus asked so calmly. It felt like a cold contrast to the painful beating of Thunderclash’s spark behind his chestplate.

Rodimus took another step forward and Thunderclash was quite sure his processor stopped working entirely as he looked down into his blue optics, the only source of light in the room and what might have been the only source of light in the universe as far as Thunderclash was concerned.

“I was thinking about that time we kissed.” Rodimus whispered.

Thunderclash felt his whole body freeze in place. His immediate reaction was to deny, deny or laugh it off as a joke. Surely the Prime was joking right? But that quickly evaporated into sheer terror when he reminded himself that _happened_. They kissed. And Rodimus was no fool as to not have noticed it. Which meant he had chosen to ignore it. So Thunderclash went with his next gut reaction.

_Apologize_.

“I—,” He choked slightly on his words, “I’m so sorry Rodimus, it was an accident—I didn’t intend for it to happen like that. I would never violate your trust in that way by kissing you without asking—” Thunderclash stopped short as he realized Rodimus looked down and away from him, “R… Rodimus?”

“Oh.” Was the response he got back.

Fear tumbled through his circuits. He had offended him. Rodimus was now going to be uncomfortable around him forever… Thunderclash felt himself spiraling but he noticed that Rodimus hadn’t let go of his hand yet. It took all of Thunderclash’s courage and then some but after a moment he moved his thumb over the back of Rodimus’ hand.

“A-Are you… Upset with me?” Thunderclash asked.

Beautiful blue optics snapped back up to look at him.

“No! No, it’s not that,” Rodimus paused, looking slightly uncomfortable, “But what you said… _I_ should be the one apologizing, not you. ‘Cause… _I_ kissed _you_ without asking.”

Thunderclash felt his optics bulge from his burning faceplate, and his jaw threatened to fall through the ground below, “You… You kissed _me?_ On _purpose_?”

“Y-Yeah,” Even in the dim light he could tell Rodimus was clearly blushing as much as himself, “I was really sleep deprived a-and I was curious as to what it would feel like… But you’re totally right I shouldn’t have done it, it was foolish of me to kiss you like that.”

Thunderclash felt his spark wither slightly at the speedster’s words, feeling the beginning sting of rejection. He didn’t have time to dwell on it before he felt Rodimus’ hand squeeze his own, taking one last step forward and the air from Thunderclash’s vents as he did. They were so close he could _feel_ the quiet purr of Rodimus’ engines and the entirety of his EM field as it embraced Thunderclash. He could feel now, the uncertainty and the gentle reassurance, along with that special something Thunderclash had gleaned from earlier… _Desire_.

“I should have _asked_ you first.” Rodimus continued, his blue optics shining up at him in the dim light.

Trying to breathe steadily again, and still reeling from keeping up with what Rodimus was saying, Thunderclash could only gently squeeze that hand that held his. It was the only thing keeping him on the ground at this point. He’d only ever dreamed of moments like this, blissful dreams that soothed away his pains and fears in the middle of the night. He always awoke too quickly, the vision fading into the next bleak day. Not this time however, this time he was almost sure it was real. The warmth and the weight of Rodimus’ hand in his own was almost proof enough. Almost. The only thing that could make this fully real was the part he never got to in his dream. He always would wake before…

“So,” Rodimus leaned up, swaying in place coyly as he did, “Can I get a redo? Can I kiss you for real this time?”

Thunderclash’s intake felt dry, any response he might have had got stuck in his chest where his spark was trying to burst free. There was a beat and he realized that Rodimus was waiting for a response. A response that he just couldn’t get out. So instead of using is words, he lifted a hand to the speedster’s cheek, praying he wouldn’t disappear under his touch. But his thumb touched smooth, warm metal, more signs that this was not some dream his processor had concocted to torture him in the middle of the night. 

Rodimus smiled at him and leaned into the touch, “Is that a yes?”

Thunderclash felt like he’d been kicked in the chest as he nodded and gasped quietly, “ _Yes_.”

Then his world was nothing but fire. Rodimus was on his lips faster than he could take a breath. The kiss burned its way through his circuits with the intensity of a sweltering summer afternoon, the heat blooming all across his frame. Thunderclash gingerly swept his arms around the speedster, feeling like he was embracing the sun as he did. It was so much better that he had ever dared to dream of, the joy in his lines bordered on painful. As the kiss deepened, Thunderclash heard a whimper but couldn’t decide if it had been Rodimus or himself. He tasted Rodimus tentatively, trying to enjoy every last moment like it was going to disappear the very next. Then, with a sudden whirr of electricity in his audials and the room illuminating, they broke apart. 

“I guess the power’s back.” Rodimus said quietly, his blue optics shining so brightly back up at him.

Thunderclash felt like he was hit with the realization all at once. What had he just done? Oh Primus, what had he just _done_? He closed his optics and wavered in place, hanging his helm in shame.

“Thunderclash? Hey are you okay?” Rodimus’ concerned voice brought him back to the moment.

He looked the speedster in the optic and felt his spark ache, “I-I was so caught up in the fact that I _could_ that I didn’t stop to think if I _should_.” Thunderclash said painfully.

“What do you mean?” Rodimus looked so confused, which only confused Thunderclash himself.

“Rodimus… You’re bonded to Megatron.” Thunderclash felt those words leave his intake with a heavy vent he had been holding, “Isn’t this inappropriate?”

“Oh,” Realization seemed to dawn on Rodimus now, “Oh, right. Uh, well… Would you feel better knowing he encouraged me to pursue you?”

Thunderclash replayed that last sentence _twice_ and still he thought maybe he had heard wrong, “Say again?”

Rodimus chuckled, maybe nervously, “Megatron knows. In fact, when I told him, he basically gave me his blessing.”

Thunderclash felt his knees weaken slightly in fear. That sounded almost too good to be true. He didn’t think that Rodimus was lying of course, but it was hard to accept that Megatron truly would be alright with Thunderclash courting his _bonded_. Even if he had then maybe he just hadn’t thought Thunderclash would agree. Wait, was Thunderclash agreeing? Wasn’t he just telling himself that he couldn’t date Rodimus because of various reasons, _namely that he himself is dying_ , only an hour ago? Sure, back then he had believed Rodimus wasn’t interested in him in that way but that doesn’t change the other extenuating circumstances surrounding their coupling.

Thunderclash must have been pulling a face because Rodimus noticed.

“What’s wrong?” Rodimus asked, clear uncertainty in his voice all of a sudden.

Thunderclash flexed his hands, still holding onto Rodimus and unwilling to let go even though half of him thought he should, “Is… Is this a good idea? You and I? If the council found out… We could say goodbye to our ship, our project together… I would hate to get you in trouble any more than I already have.”

“Oh.” Rodimus looked down, his fingers playing with the top edge of Thunderclash’s chest plate, “I guess I just… Forgot about that.”

The sadness in Rodimus’ voice pained Thunderclash in places he had never felt before. He was so close to something he had only dreamed of for so long, was he really going to throw it away for a spaceship and the respect of his peers? Or was it more selfish of him to take Rodimus down this road with him? The Prime was under far more scrutiny than himself, if they were found out then the people might turn on him. Right now… Things were more risky than they needed to be. Still, Thunderclash didn’t want to let go now that he had Rodimus in his arms. He couldn’t decide.

“Rodimus,” Thunderclash dipped his helm to look the speedster in the optic. Rodimus glanced back at him, a glimmer of hope in his optics.

“If… If Megatron is truly okay with this,” Thunderclash paused, clearing his intake, “I’ll leave the decision up to you. We might have to sneak around for a while if we do this.”

Rodimus brightened, nodding his head vigorously, “Yes! And if you need more proof then just come over tonight, Megatron can tell you himself.” Rodimus cupped his face with warm, golden hands, “I… really, really like you. I’m uh, not sure if you noticed.” He laughed.

That infectious sound brought a smile to Thunderclash’s face once again, “I did, and I really, really, like you too.”

They stood there for a few moments longer, simply enjoying each other’s embrace before Thunderclash chuckled, “We might want to get back to our research though.”

“Oh right!” Rodimus let go and moved back over to the console, “You’re right, you’re right, there’ll be more time for all that later.” 

Thunderclash couldn’t help but smile dumbly at that, “All the time in the world my Prime.”

And while it didn’t feel like an outright lie, his spark felt heavy regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it's finally done lol. I think I can get a new chapter out every few weeks like this for now. My job is settling into a much more routine schedule so I can actually find time (though still very little lmao) to write. I'm happy with how this one came out! Tell me what you guys think is gonna happen next ;) lol


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